


Courage: The Destiny of Magic

by Tamasha



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Action/Adventure, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Camelot, Canon Era, Closeted Character, Confessions, Dancing, Death, Destiny, F/M, Feels, Fights, Friendship, Gay, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Magic Revealed, Male Slash, Marriage, Minor Character Death, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Original Character(s), Pining, Relationship(s), Romance, Sad, Secrets, Sex, Sexual Content, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:26:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3561212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamasha/pseuds/Tamasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin comes to Camelot to help his great aunt Laudine, the court physician, but finds himself as Prince Arthur's personal manservant. As their relationship grows, and Arthur's father pressures him to marry, the two decide to run away and find themselves in a lot more trouble than they anticipated.</p><p>This is our first fanfiction, so it isn't very good, but it shows how much we have improved!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written by Natasha and Tamara

**Chapter One**

 

A calm filled the woods that was almost magical. There was order here, nothing out of place. Merlin watched a deer grazing across the field. He sat unmoving a few yards away, giving the deer reason to trust he would not harm the animal. His journey to Camelot was almost through.

Only two days before, he had left his home village of Ealdor and his mother, Hunith. Long ago, when his father had been alive, the family had gone on a journey to meet with the druids to find answers about why Merlin had been born with magic. Merlin’s father had died on that trip, but Merlin would always remember what he had learned: he had a destiny to unite Camelot under the rule of a great king.

The famous castle of Camelot held only mystery for the young warlock, and Merlin wondered what life would be like in another kingdom and among nobles. He only knew of life in quiet Ealdor, and he hoped that he would be able to find such peace again.

His great aunt Laudine was physician to King Uther, and though magic was a crime in Camelot, punishable by death, Laudine was going to keep him safe and help hide his secret. She was already gathering books for him to learn from, and she was old enough to remember a time when magic was used freely there. His mother assured him that Laudine was both knowledgeable and wise, but Merlin still knew that his new home would be dangerous.

He rose slowly, reluctant to leave the tranquil spot he had picked to eat his lunch. He carefully placed the remainder of his food in his worn satchel and made his way down the hill. The deer leapt away as he neared it, and its fearful behavior reminded Merlin of the time he had seen a unicorn. Merlin and Hunith had stumbled across it as Merlin was learning to hunt. He had always hated the idea of hunting. It seemed so cruel to him to shoot an innocent animal, just to eat it, when the wood provided food from the ground. However, when Merlin was seven his mother had insisted it was time he learn to hunt.

They had been crouched in a shadow, Hunith holding her bow ready to shoot, when the unicorn appeared. Merlin had frozen in awe of its beauty. He had been immediately aware of how special the creature was. A beam of light had broken through the trees and had landed directly on the single horn upon its head.

“Don’t shoot it, Mother!” Merlin had said, without taking his eyes off the magnificent animal. When he had finally glanced at his mother, he had realized that Hunith’s bow was already down, and she had been looking at the unicorn with the same awe as Merlin.

They had sat and watched the animal until it had moved on, talking only in a whisper. Merlin had not wanted to ever leave. The unicorn was sacred and divine, yet Merlin had seen all creatures this way. Each animal inhabited the earth the same as the next, why should any one die for the sake of another?

Hunith had told him that was the circle of the universe. She had explained to Merlin how each animal was part of a grand design, and that using an animal for substance was not the same as killing for sport. Merlin had seen no difference. As Merlin grew up, he had always held onto this belief, though he understood how the world must be. Of course it was not unnatural to eat animals, Merlin just wished it did not involve taking a life.

The deer disappeared into the forest and Merlin was rather sympathetic to the fear that must have filled the animal. Humans gave animals no reason not to run and hide. He thought again of his mother. What was it that kept Hunith from shooting the unicorn? She had been awestruck by the creature too. Merlin took comfort in knowing that there was magic in the beauty of life that could not be ignored by all.

He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and continued on his way. Camelot was not a day away, and Merlin began to prepare himself for the differences he may face. Not all life could be as peaceful as it was here, in the woods. It was time to face something new, and though uncertain, Merlin was determined to fulfill his destiny.

 

It had only been a day since Merlin had arrived in Camelot. Laudine had made up a small, but comfortable room for Merlin. After his first breakfast in Camelot, Merlin sat alone in this room, trying to remind himself of his destiny.

He wanted nothing more than to go home. Camelot was no place for a warlock, yet this was where he was called to go. Somehow, Merlin was to help the prince, Arthur, shape a new Camelot. How could he do this as a peasant? It was helpful that Merlin was an assistant to the court physician, but there was no way to get close to the prince unless he was sick or injured. Maybe the druids had been wrong. Maybe this destiny was not meant for him, after all.

Merlin sat on his bed and hugged his knees. His stomach turned as the stench of Laudine’s tinctures filled the air. This wasn’t home. This was as far from it as Merlin could be. He was not safe here in Camelot, right under the nose of the very king who outlawed magic.

There was a knock on the door, but Merlin did not move to answer it. Laudine called from the other side and Merlin fell to the bed, lying on his side. He fought back his emotion before he called for her to enter.

“I am going to check on Sir Bors, would you like to come?” she said sweetly, but Merlin still felt lonely.

He turned to face her. “Not today, thank you. I feel ill.” Laudine nodded and backed out of the room. Merlin turned again to his side and let out a soft sound. Destiny didn’t seem so appealing any longer.

After a week, Merlin began to feel comfortable in his new skills as an assistant to Laudine. Today, she had been called to attend to a knight who had been injured during practice and decided to take Merlin along with her.

She had gathered her medical equipment in a basket and then they hurried to the practice grounds. Upon arrival, Merlin immediately saw where they were needed. A group of knights was gathered in a circle around their fallen companion. Laudine strode over and shooed everyone away by what seemed like sheer force of will.

One knight remained, kneeling above the wounded man. The latter was unconscious and blood was pooling around him. Merlin averted his eyes and found himself looking at the other knight. He had blue eyes and pale blond hair. He was in full armor; sunlight reflected off the metal and delicately back at Merlin. Unaware of Merlin’s scrutiny, the man spoke to the physician. “Laudine, thank you for coming so quickly. Sir Leon is bleeding heavily…” He spoke with a deep concern.

“I came as quickly as I could, Prince Arthur,” she replied calmly. Then, Laudine silently set to work, cleaning the wound and staunching the bleeding.

Merlin lingered behind, still looking at the prince. So this was Arthur. The prince of Camelot. The man his destiny was centered on. Merlin had expected him to be much older and not as fair. With a start, Merlin realized he was not here to gawk foolishly and helped Laudine pack in the cloths. Sir Leon stirred as she applied pressure to the wound.

“I will need to bring him back to my chambers, Arthur.” Laudine seemed familiar with the prince, which was surprising to Merlin.

Arthur immediately rose. “Of course, Laudine.” Then, looking to the other men he called out, “Gwaine, fetch a cot.” A knight rushed off in the direction of the castle. The prince looked back at Merlin, noticing him for the first time. “Who are you?”

“This is Merlin, my nephew, and my new assistant.” Laudine stated, not looking away from her patient.

Prince Arthur looked at Merlin, hard, and Merlin awkwardly held Laudine’s supplies in his hands. “Do you know this trade well, Merlin?”

“No sire, I only arrived in Camelot a week ago.”

 The prince shifted his weight and looked back at Sir Leon. Laudine interjected with, “He is a fast learner, sire. I would not bring him along if I did not trust him.”

The prince nodded, reassured. Soon, the cot arrived and the prince helped the other knights place Sir Leon onto it. They lifted it carefully and then the group made a slow procession to Laudine’s workroom.

As they stood before the doors, she instructed them to set the knight down on one of the beds. “Leon is going to need rest now, more than company,” Laudine announced to Arthur. The remaining knights funneled out of the room, but Prince Arthur lingered. “He just needs rest. I assure you, he will be fine in the morning.”

Merlin watched the prince walk slowly out of the room. “Will you be needing anything else, Laudine?”

“No, Merlin. Thank you. Why don’t you give Sir Leon some space.” She turned back to her patient and continued her work.

Outside of the room, Merlin found that the prince had not yet left. “Laudine will take care of him.” Prince Arthur said, almost to himself.

Merlin paused, unsure if the prince expected a response. “Yes, sire.”

He had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed, but now he straightened and dropped his arms. “Merlin, was it?” he asked.

“Yes, sire.”

The prince began walking. “So, you have only been in Camelot for a week?”

After a few steps, Merlin realized that the prince apparently expected him to follow. He caught up to the man. “Yes, sire.” He had not really had any plans anyway.

“Is that all you are capable of saying, Merlin?” The prince stopped and turned to Merlin, spreading his arms wide.

“No, sire.” Merlin was not sure how he was supposed to react to the prince of Camelot taking an interest in him. He kept his head lowered.

The prince laughed out loud. “Am I really that intimidating?” He made a dismissive gesture, as if that were not even a possibility, and began to walk again. “What brought you to Camelot? Are you interested in becoming a physician one day?”

“No, my lord. It is a skill that Laudine has taught me, and I am grateful for it, but I have only just arrived. I would like to try my hand at other professions before deciding on a single path.”

“Where are you from, Merlin?”

“A small village to the east called Ealdor. It’s located in Essetir, though we never saw any representatives of King Cenred.”

The prince stopped walking again and looked directly at Merlin. He waited until Merlin raised his head and looked back at him. “Well, I hope you enjoy it here. Welcome to Camelot, Merlin.” As the prince said his name, Merlin felt a happiness he had not yet felt since his arrival in Camelot. A smile began to spread across his lips as he watched the prince walk away. Finally, he began to see how he could make a home for himself in this place.

 

After the midday sun started to fall in the sky, Merlin returned to help Laudine with making tinctures. They were busying themselves with the task when one of Uther’s personal guards came to the door. Laudine finished what she was doing and then went to open the door, despite the rush in the guard’s voice.

“The prince wishes to speak to your assistant, Merlin,” he said in a raspy voice.

Merlin was uncertain whether he had heard the guard correctly. Prince Arthur wanted to speak to him? It had only been a few hours since they had met; what could the prince possibly want? Before Merlin could react, the guard came into the room and took Merlin’s upper arm aggressively in his hand and pulled him out the door.

It was quiet in the halls of the castle. Somehow, Merlin expected it to be busy, filled with lords and ladies. But it was silent. Their footsteps landed on the stone and created a rhythmic beat. Merlin did not know what to expect from the prince, but he was certain he would not be prepared for it.

The guard stopped at a large wooden door at the end of a hall. It was the biggest door Merlin had ever seen, so he expected to enter the Grand Hall. When the door opened, it revealed a bedroom. The whole room could have engulfed Merlin’s entire cottage back in Ealdor. Prince Arthur sat at a table in the middle of the room. Merlin found himself looking everywhere but at the prince.

“Thank you, Ninian.” Prince Arthur said kindly to the guard. The man bowed his head slightly before pushing Merlin in the room, leaving, and shutting the door. “Take a seat, Merlin.”

The room was light and full of red colors. Everything was more elegant than Merlin could have anticipated. He looked back at the prince, who was waiting for him to move. Merlin realized how foolish he must have looked and quickly sat in the chair in front of him. “Sorry, my lord.”

“What is wrong?” the prince asked sincerely.

The wood of the chair was carved so that Merlin began to sink into it. “Nothing. It’s beautiful,” Merlin breathed, his hands gently stroking the artfully carved armrest.

Merlin was looking up at the silk drapes when the prince finally spoke. “The chair?”

“The room. The castle.” Merlin looked back at the prince, surprised he didn’t see it too. “All of it.”

Prince Arthur chuckled and looked down, shaking his head. “You are something else, Merlin.”

Merlin tried to gather some composure. “My lord, forgive me. I have never been in such luxurious quarters before.” He tried to not sound ashamed of this, but for some reason he was.

“Don’t be sorry, Merlin.” He stood up and crossed to the chair that Merlin sat in. “Do you like being Laudine’s assistant, Merlin?” The prince kept saying Merlin’s name in a way that perplexed him, but Merlin found himself enjoying the tone the prince used.

“Yes, sire.”

“What did you do in Ealdor?” The prince began to pace.

Merlin shifted in his seat. “Sire?”

“Did you cook? Clean? Do you have experience farming?” The conversation was beginning to feel like an interrogation. Prince Arthur turned to Merlin and raised an eyebrow. “What did you do in Ealdor?” he repeated.

“I mostly helped my mother with the farm, sire.” Merlin’s voice was weak.

The prince looked perturbed by Merlin’s answer. “My name is ‘Arthur,’” he stated plainly.

“I know that, my lord.”

“Call me ‘Arthur,’” he asked, nothing like a command from a prince. The room felt suddenly empty. The two looked at each other from across the table.

Daring to obey, Merlin held his gaze. “Yes, Arthur.”

Arthur looked satisfied and began to pace once again, holding a smile on his face. “I am in need of a manservant. He would be my personal servant and would be at my side always.” He looked at Merlin and began to walk back to his place across the table. “Would this job interest you, Merlin?”

“I would have to ask Laudine if she could spare some of my time.”

Arthur leaned over, putting his weight on his hands that held the table. “But would you be interested?”

The look Arthur gave him suggested this was not simply a request for a new job. This was something bigger. Merlin’s destiny was to intertwine with Arthur’s, but the choice was easier than Merlin had imagined. It didn’t feel like destiny calling, this was something Merlin wanted.

“I would like that very much, Arthur.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 

It was still strange waking up to Merlin every day. Arthur had gotten used to Royns’ face greeting him each morning, but Merlin’s was a surprise that he cherished. It was a lovely way to start out the day.

Despite his efforts, Merlin was truly a terrible manservant. He was always on time, but that was where his talents stopped. Arthur was starting to wonder if this was a mistake. He looked at Merlin standing over a dirty pile of clothes and remembered why it was not.

“Sire, should I wash these?”

“Arthur.” It had been a week and the lad still could not break the habit of addressing him as a noble. He didn’t want Merlin to feel uncomfortable around him, as he so clearly did. The boy visibly trembled in Arthur’s presence.

Merlin quickly gathered the clothes up in his arms. “Sorry, um… Arthur. I’ll just get these washed.” He rushed out of the room before Arthur could stop him.

Frustrated, Arthur fell back on his bed and rubbed his temples. He tried to sort out his cluttered thoughts. There was no reason he should have felt disappointed that Merlin had just left the room. So why did he? Arthur tried to distract himself with other affairs. His father was insistent that Arthur begin his search for a queen. This was the very last thing Arthur wanted to think about.

Arthur had his choice of noblewomen in the court, yet none piqued his interest. They were all so dull. All but one. Lady Guinevere was Arthur’s closest friend in court. She was the only lady who would talk politics with Arthur. Her opinions mattered to him and she was a trusted companion. But Arthur could not see himself marrying her, raising a family with her, or loving her. Her knowledge of political affairs was her only quality that would prove useful as a queen.

The door squeaked open slowly and Arthur knew it was Merlin reentering. He hadn’t quite mastered knocking. Arthur didn’t mind. He didn’t mind any mistakes Merlin made. “Come in, Merlin.”

A small brown head of hair peered out from the other side of the door. His dark blue eyes found Arthur’s and he entered the room fully. Merlin still held the clothes in his skinny arms. Embarrassed, he asked, “Is the washroom to the left or the right at the end of this hall?”

Arthur chuckled much louder than he had intended. The boy was endearing in a way. Arthur stood and wrapped himself in a robe. “Why don’t I show you where it is?”

“Yes, my lord.” Merlin said to the ground.

They walked in silence and Arthur grasped at topics to discuss, but none were fitting. The hallway seemed much longer than Arthur had remembered and he wished he did not foolishly follow Merlin the way he did. He was just a servant. That was all he was.

Arthur didn’t believe that.

Around the corner there was animated giggling and soon Lady Guinevere and Lady Morgana were in sight. The two ladies stopped at the odd sight of the prince in his robe following a servant with an armful of dirty laundry.

“Lady Gwen, and Morgana!” Arthur tried to overpower the gracelessness of the situation.

“Arthur, brother, what are you doing?” Lady Morgana was Uther’s ward. More than just a ward to the king, she was like a sister to Arthur. She teased him and treated him as a little brother, and Arthur wouldn’t have wished any different for their relationship.

Guinevere averted her eyes, uncomfortable with the sight of Arthur in this state. “Hello, Prince Arthur.”

“No need for formalities, Gwen.”

She looked at him now. “I believe formalities are entirely necessary at this point, your highness.”

Morgana laughed at this and took Gwen’s arm in her hands. “Come on, Lady Guinevere, it’s just Arthur. This is nothing that you would be unfamiliar with in the future.” She chuckled again and Guinevere scowled at her.

It was all Arthur could do to hold back a smile at the remark. Morgana always had a witty retort, but it was all in jest. “Good day, Lady Guinevere.” He wished to dispense of all formalities. Especially with those he considered close friends.

As the two ladies walked away down the corridor Arthur watched, noting that he saw them in the same light. Both were women he respected, but neither held any romantic interest for Arthur. He would sooner marry Merlin than either of them.

Arthur intercepted his rolling thoughts.

The servant stood waiting to move on, clothes still in hand. A fleeting thought should not stop Arthur from becoming friends with the boy. He was just his manservant, and Arthur could befriend anyone he wished. Arthur did not dwell on the things he could not understand; he was happy to help Merlin. It was that simple. Nothing more.

But Arthur didn’t believe that.

 

Over a month had passed in Camelot and Merlin began to feel more like he had made a home. Helping Laudine when he could and being Arthur’s manservant took up most of his time, but he enjoyed staying busy. Being a servant to the prince was much harder than Merlin had anticipated, but he began to find a rhythm to his days here.

Time spent with Arthur felt like a dream. As time passed, Merlin found his excitement increasing each day he saw Arthur. Merlin had never been so desperate to monopolize his time with another person. There was a friendship blooming that Merlin found himself wanting to explore. He wasn’t just a servant to Arthur, and Arthur wasn’t just a prince to him.

“Merlin!” Arthur called from outside the room. He had been training with the knights all day and must have been exhausted. “Merlin.” Arthur was in his chambers now, looking angrily at his manservant.

“Yes, Arthur?” Merlin turned to face him.

“Oh don’t ‘yes, Arthur’ me, Merlin. You didn’t polish my armor, my lance was nowhere to be found, and what are you doing up here? You should have been there waiting for me when I was finished with the knights.” He let out a huff after speaking so quickly. “Well, Merlin?”

“I’m sorry, sire.” Merlin said meekly.

Arthur let out a breath he had been holding in. “I just…” He rubbed his eyes with his palms, and stretched the skin on his face as he brought his hands down. “Merlin, I am under a lot of pressure. I didn’t mean to speak sharply to you.”

Merlin realized that he had been hurt by Arthur’s words. He had been lectured by many nobles over the past few weeks; none had brought Merlin to even bat an eye. But Arthur? This was the first time the prince had acted in such a way towards Merlin. His anger was usually directed at policies, traditions, or pressure from his father, never Merlin. “Yes, sire.”

“Please, Merlin. I didn’t mean to…” Merlin looked away from Arthur as the prince walked tentatively towards him.

When he reached Merlin, Merlin felt he needed to face him. Arthur searched Merlin’s eyes for any sign of forgiveness. Merlin hoped his silence would keep him from being yelled at again; he was not ready to believe there was nothing more behind that outburst.

“Excuse me, sire.” Merlin pushed passed the prince, but before he could leave, Arthur grabbed his hand. Both froze in place and looked simultaneously at their hands, then back at each other. Arthur seemed just as surprised as Merlin.

They both pulled away quickly and Merlin began to feel like maybe Arthur’s actions were not entirely misunderstood. Merlin walked towards the door, and rested his hand on the nob. “It’s all right, Arthur,” he said without looking back. “I understand.” He pulled the door open, but hesitated.

“Stay, Merlin?” Arthur said, eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t go yet. Not like this.”

Merlin turned back to Arthur and realized that was what he wanted the prince to say. He shut the door and silently made his way back to Arthur where he began to remove the prince’s armor. “I can’t imagine the pressures of being a prince.” The tension was far from clear, but Merlin knew it was his place to break it.

Merlin moved to his front and began to remove Arthur’s chest plate. The prince’s eyes followed Merlin as he worked. “I really am sorry, Merlin. Can we put it behind us?”

“Already forgotten, my lord.” Merlin smiled. It wasn’t perfect, Merlin still felt uneasy, but he could tell Arthur was truly sorry. He longed for things to go back to normal, and wondered if his hand would ever stop tingling from Arthur’s touch.

 

Merlin sat scrubbing black polish onto Prince Arthur’s boots. It was a mindless task at this point. He had polished these boots hundreds of times, but Arthur’s boots always needed more polishing. He had been afraid to make mistakes once, wanting everything to be perfect. He still did his best, but he was used to the prince’s occasional complaints. He claimed Merlin was the worst manservant he had ever had, but he never looked for another.

Merlin was close enough to the prince now to listen to the affection in his tone and not his actual words. Arthur sometimes played the role that others demanded from him, but he relaxed around Merlin, able to be himself without any expectations to meet.

The door swung open and Merlin jumped up, not expecting the prince to be back yet. It was indeed Arthur, though, looking a little drunk. One boot in one hand and a blackened rag in the other, Merlin watched him sway as he made his way to the center of the room. “Come, Merlin. Your chores can wait; this is more important.”

“What, exactly, is more important?” Merlin asked patiently, setting aside the boot and putting away the dirty rag. He winced as Arthur tore off the doublet he had worn to the audience with his father. The prince frowned at the article of clothing and then dropped it on the floor, making his way to Merlin. He grabbed his shoulder and steered Merlin out of the room.

Once in the hallways, Merlin gently extracted himself and walked beside his prince, who began to speak. “Gwaine has convinced me. Though it was unjust for my father to banish Lancelot, it is time to move on. I still have a duty to the knights here and one day I will be able to bestow knighthood upon any man who deserves it.”

Merlin nodded as they made their way out of the castle. Sir Lancelot had been gone almost two weeks now, but Arthur had been furious with his father and had not recovered quickly. Merlin was glad to see his mood high again, but… “So, where is it we are going, sire?”

Arthur motioned forward and Merlin noticed Sirs Gwaine, Percival, and Leon waiting in the street. Like Arthur, they wore simple shirts and breeches. Sir Leon, Arthur’s closest friend, looked slightly uncomfortable. Merlin frowned, doubtful, but Gwaine and Percival met them with cheerful faces. “What is going on?” Merlin asked, almost annoyed.

“I was going to take them drinking, but Arthur insisted on bringing you along!” Gwaine announced happily, with a wink. The knights had become friendly with Merlin and had grown used to him being at Arthur’s side. Gwaine was the most carefree of the group, and was always trying to get his “uptight” friends drunk. Merlin was surprised that Arthur had agreed to do so in public, but Gwaine put his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and whispered theatrically, “Arthur’s already had a taste.”

Merlin glanced at Arthur and received a wide grin in response. Merlin let out a chuckle. Well, this was better than the brooding he had been doing lately. Gwaine let go of Merlin and began to lead the way to whichever tavern he had decided on and Percival walked next to him. Those two were nearly inseparable. Arthur followed along behind and Merlin stayed close by to steady him when he stumbled. He shared a resigned look with Sir Leon, who watchfully brought up the rear, and then readied himself for a night of revelry.

The walk to the tavern was short and the tavern itself was cleaner than Merlin had expected. Gwaine walked directly to the bar and ordered a round for the house. The bartender, a short, rotund man, did not even hesitate in filling up glasses. Merlin guessed that wealthy nobles often frequented his establishment.

Before the drinks were even handed out, Gwaine called them all over to a game of dice. They gathered around the table as he explained the rules and then he rolled. Laughing as he lost on his first turn, Gwaine passed the cup filled with dice to Percival. A young woman brought over their drinks, but the men mostly ignored her. Only Leon gave her thanks. Merlin sipped on his own ale and watched the game. He wanted to be able to take care of Arthur, should he need it, so he stayed sober.

The night passed happily and even Leon bent over in laughter when he dropped a handful of dice into his ale, thinking it was the die cup. The serving girl brought out a new set and took away the sticky ones to clean and Merlin gave her a smile of thanks. She smiled sheepishly back at him, but he turned his attention back to the game. It was his turn. He shook the cup, ignoring Gwaine’s taunts, and then froze.

“G’luck, Merlin,” Arthur slurred. “Ye’ll need it t’catch up.” Merlin glanced furtively at his friend to be sure it was Arthur’s arm that snaked behind his back, presumably to where Merlin could feel a hand on his rear. His cheeks burned red while he looked carefully at the knights, ensuring that none of them had noticed.

Thus assured, he continued to shake the cup, suddenly aware that he not only did not mind Arthur’s hand there, he wanted it there. He rolled and grinned at his winning numbers. “Thank you, my lord. It seems it worked,” he said as he turned to Arthur, reluctantly sliding Arthur’s hand back where it belonged. This was not a realization that could be shared, unfortunately. Even with Prince Arthur.

 

Arthur stood stiffly as Merlin primped him for his upcoming meeting. Half a year now since he had started this job, yet Merlin still would forget steps or miss small details. He knew today was important so he moved slowly, double and triple checking everything. Arthur hardly noticed, for his mind was elsewhere.

Today he was to meet with the Princess Mithia, daughter of King Lot, whom his father wanted him to marry. Lot and Uther were writing a treaty and this marriage would seal the agreement more firmly than any words could. Arthur understood that, but he hated the idea of marrying this woman he did not know, and he absolutely loathed the idea of Merlin having to watch them meet. Merlin seemed to be taking all this talk of engagement in stride, though of course Arthur could not ask him about it freely. He looked sadly at his servant, his steady blue eyes inspecting Arthur’s shirt, his dark hair slightly mussed. Suddenly, Merlin met his eyes.

“You are ready, my lord.” Merlin’s cheerful visage comforted Arthur. If Merlin could stay positive through this, then so could he.

He led the way to the Grand Hall where he entered regally while the herald announced him. His father lounged in his throne at the end of the hall. King Lot stood next to him, and his robust figure made Uther look old and frail, which Arthur was not used to seeing. He finished the walk to his father and bowed, only then setting his eyes on the princess.

She was gorgeous, by anyone’s standards. She had wide blue eyes, golden curls, and a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose. She lowered her lids when he looked at her and peered at him flirtatiously from between long lashes. Arthur took a deep breath and held out a hand, trying to forget about Merlin, lingering somewhere behind him. The princess glided toward him, managing to swing her hips as she walked.

She took his hand delicately and curtsied to him. He bowed stiffly in return. “Princess Mithia,” he said dutifully. “Welcome to Camelot.” He glanced at his father, who gave him an encouraging nod, and then prepared himself for mindless smalltalk.

 

There was a simple joy Merlin took from washing Arthur’s feet. Just being with Arthur was pleasant. There was something about the way Arthur watched him that made Merlin’s heart leap.

“Merlin, I want you to take a day off.” The prince took odd opportunities to say what was on his mind.

Merlin wasn’t sure if he was teasing him or not, so he tried to ignore him. “I’m almost done, sire.”

“Did you hear what I said?” He sounded as if Merlin had just disobeyed an order.

“Yes, sire.”

“And?”

Merlin avoided eye contact. “As you wish, sire.”

“All right, what is it? Stop calling me ‘sire’ and stand up, Merlin!” Arthur pulled him up to his eye level and held his gaze. Merlin didn’t speak. He just stared at the prince’s lips and waited for Arthur to speak again. “Merlin?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” the prince asked.

“Do you think…” Merlin couldn’t find the proper words. He knew what he wanted to say, but wasn’t able to hold the words back long enough to find replacements. “Would it possible if we took the day off together?” Merlin looked hard at Arthur and didn’t break his gaze. There was a moment where neither man spoke. Finally the silence was broken.

“Merlin. I can’t.” Merlin took a step back wondering if the prince really understood the significance of this question. He struggled with a feeling of equal parts curiosity and shame. “I’m sorry.” The prince continued, “You know I can’t do this.”

The door closed behind Arthur and Merlin was left in the empty room, a wet washcloth still in his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 

Laudine moved slowly through the inner city of Camelot. She always tried to make her rounds while the king was at court. Her tired bones ached as she approached the last house with the last tincture in hand.

Merlin typically would be there to help Laudine, but he often would get caught up in his duties with Arthur. She worried about Merlin. Her niece had sent Merlin to Camelot to stay out of trouble, but Hunith should have known that Camelot was a dangerous place for a young sorcerer. She trusted in Laudine to protect him, and Laudine would certainly do her best, but she was getting on in years.

The townspeople hurried throughout the marketplace, the city was always bustling and moving faster than Laudine cared to pay attention to. She began making her way back to the castle; the king would request her council after meeting with the court. Laudine had been court physician since before Uther’s birth; the king trusted her greatly. This trust had turned into more of a burden than a blessing. Laudine was uncomfortable keeping Merlin’s secret, but she had no choice. Laudine knew better than anyone what Uther would do to Merlin if he were to find out, and Laudine could never let that happen.

The king really was a good man, despite his flaws. He had a reasonable hatred of magic. Of course Laudine disagreed with the executions, but she understood why Uther had established the law. Magic was a powerful thing; in the wrong hands it could do great damage. Laudine had seen from Uther’s experience the pain magic could bring to a person. Uther had only used magic once, and it resulted in the death of his wife.

Before reaching the castle steps, Laudine heard her name being called from the crowd of people. Tall Lady Guinevere with long dark locks, rushed towards her through the masses.

“Laudine! Sorry to stop you from your duties, I know you’re busy.”

Laudine stopped and waited for the maiden to come close. “Nonsense, my lady. I always have time for you. What is it?”

“Do you happen to have any perfume? Or something to make my skin softer?” She seemed to be in a hurry, but still addressed Laudine with respect.

“Does this have something to do with the prince, my lady?” Laudine smiled, knowing of the lady’s courtship of the prince from gossip.

The young woman giggled and shook her head. “Not at all,” she teased.

Laudine decided to show Lady Guinevere to her chambers to see what she could make that would help her with her concerns.

 

Guinevere was thankful that Laudine was discreet. Her request had been simple and childish, but she still was uneasy about meeting with Arthur. He was so kind and gentle with her. She knew he liked her, although she was uncertain whether he felt the same way she felt towards him. Arthur spoke with many noblewomen in his court, but he never seemed to favor any one over the others. Still, she saw their friendship as unique and meaningful, and thought he might feel the same.

She left Laudine’s chambers with a smile, as she headed to meet with Arthur. He wanted to see her today, but she didn’t know what this meeting would bring. She felt any news would be good news. At least if he didn’t love her, she would know.

For a moment her mind went back to Lancelot. She was startled at the memory that crept its way into her head. Lancelot was an aspiring knight of Camelot who had been banished by the king. There were unusual circumstances surrounding his banishment. She suspected it had happened because Uther did not approve of one of his knights having dark skin. Gwen thought it was odd that she would think of Lancelot on her way to meet with the prince of Camelot. Her feelings for him had long been forgotten, since she had decided to pursue the prince. She couldn’t place why the memory of the young knight would find its way into her mind at this moment.

 

Lady Guinevere sat next to Prince Arthur. She stared at him and he stared at the pond. Merlin stood behind them with a pitcher of water, waiting to be called upon. Arthur had not spoken all morning. He couldn’t make eye contact with Lady Gwen and Merlin couldn’t bring himself to look at either of them.

“So, why have you invited me out today, my lord?” Guinevere finally broke the silence.

“Well, my lady,” Arthur took her hand. “I have been thinking a lot. My father wishes for me to find a bride within a fortnight.” Merlin nearly dropped the pitcher in his hand in surprise.

“Is that so?” Lady Gwen was trying to suppress her excitement. “Have you decided whom you will marry, my lord?” she asked softly.

Arthur looked back into the pond and Merlin saw that he had no answer yet. “Father wants me to marry for the good of the kingdom. Someone who would offer an alliance. I know he is right, it is my duty. And yet… the thought of marrying someone I do not love, do not even know… I’m just not sure I can do it.” Arthur sighed and picked up his cup, drinking the last of his water. “More water, Merlin.” Merlin reluctantly came forward and poured into his cup. Their eyes met and Merlin saw the uncertainty there. He looked away before he had the chance to process, because he knew it would lead nowhere.

Oblivious, Guinevere put her hand on Arthur’s knee, and Merlin felt a whisper of jealousy. “Still, is there anyone in Camelot that you would marry? A fortnight is so soon.”

“Even marrying a friend would be far better than marrying a stranger,” Arthur told her. “But it still would not be a marriage of love, a true marriage.” And then Arthur’s eyes searched for Merlin’s again. When Merlin did not meet them, Arthur looked back at the lady.

Merlin wondered if she knew. He still wasn’t sure if Arthur even knew, or how he truly felt about it. Merlin could hardly stand there and watch as Lady Guinevere encouraged Arthur to “stand up for what he believed in” and “to ignore political machinations”; not while Merlin’s heart was breaking.

 

Arthur’s armor was cold in Merlin’s hands. Arthur stared out the window as Merlin attempted to put the armor on him.

“What should I do, Merlin?”

“Sire?”

“Don’t…” Arthur turned on Merlin. Immediately realizing his anger was misplaced, Arthur put a warm hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “I asked you not to call me ‘sire’; and I’m asking you… I’m asking you as a friend. What should I do? I do not wish to marry Princess Mithia. There is another person I -”

“Lady Guinevere?” Merlin wouldn’t let him finish. If he knew what Arthur truly felt, he would have a much harder time hiding his own feelings. There was no use talking about it if nothing was to come of it.

“My father doesn’t want me to marry within Camelot. He wants me to marry Mithia for the sake of the treaty, but at least Guinevere is a friend.” He looked at his feet. “Merlin, you’re my best friend. Please… tell me what I should do.” He looked back up at Merlin and caught his eye.

Merlin gave the only answer he could give. The safest and most honest answer he could muster: “Choose the one who will make you the happiest.”

“I think I will do that.” The prince placed both hands on Merlin’s shoulders, and looked at him straight on. “Thanks, Merlin.” He hesitated briefly and then met Merlin’s lips for a kiss. Before Merlin could react appropriately, Arthur was striding out of the room.

Merlin stared after him, shock rising in his chest. This must be an unrealistic fantasy. But it was real. Slowly, his shock faded, leaving only a warm glow.

 

Arthur walked happily down the hallways of the castle. He knew the way to his father's study so well that his attention naturally strayed to other topics. Such as his kiss. His warm, simple, and long-awaited kiss. Arthur had kissed women before - well, one woman - but it had not been anything like this. Kissing Merlin was like finding his other half after a lifetime of searching. It was a promise of good things to come.

He arrived at the door to his father's study. The king would not be happy. In fact, Arthur was not even sure how he would tell his father of his decision. Still, he could face whatever was to come. He would start here with his father.

He knocked on the door and then opened it and walked in. "Father," he said when the king looked up from his paperwork.

"Yes, Arthur?" He asked, sounding irritated. Arthur glanced at the papers, hoping there was no bad news contained within.

Then, he looked up at his father. His stomach dropped in fear of the words he planned to say. "I am not getting married, father, not yet."

The king narrowed his eyes. "Please, Arthur, I have no time for this nonsense. You are the future king of Camelot.” He sighed with a hint of sympathy. “We discussed this, Arthur. King Lot is here for a treaty and one thing he asks is that Princess Mithia, his youngest, should be well off. We agreed to a marriage in a fortnight.”

Arthur felt childish arguing with his father, but he believed that this was wrong for him. Wrong for so many reasons. “I do not want to marry her, Father.”

“Is it Lady Guinevere? Really, Arthur, you can’t think that will be what is best for the kingdom?” He said, finally putting the paper he was holding onto his desk.

"What if I choose a servant?" He stared at his father, a challenge in his eyes.

The king stood, as if accepting the challenge. "We are not even going to discuss this, Arthur."

This conversation would not end well, no matter what Arthur said next. Uther was already too angry to be reasonable. Especially with the news Arthur had originally intended to deliver, Uther would only become angrier. “I believe that in order to make a strong king, I should marry for love.”

Uther rolled his eyes and stepped around his desk towards Arthur. “You will marry a noble. You will follow the arrangements made for you. And you will not argue this. Besides, Guinevere will not bring security to Camelot, not the way a treaty would.”

Arthur responded before thinking. "Guinevere is kindhearted and intelligent. She has lived among the people of Camelot her whole life. She would make an excellent queen!" He pursed his lips and stopped speaking. What was he doing? He didn't want to marry Lady Gwen anyway.

Yet, suddenly he was uncertain. His heart had chosen Merlin, of that there was no question, but he was a prince. He had to make choices that would benefit all of Camelot, not just himself. Camelot needed an heir. It needed stability. It needed a prince who thought beyond his own selfish desires.

"Son, the life of a king is not an easy one. We must make hard choices and we give up many things for the sake of duty. You were born into this, but I raised you to put your people before yourself in all things. You must choose a bride that the people will accept." His father spoke sincerely, but Arthur resented him for it.

Arthur closed his eyes. He had not chosen to be a prince, but he was. He had to bear that burden. Gingerly, he took the memory of his one and only kiss with the man he cared about and placed it in the recesses of his mind, where he could forget about it. It would hurt too much to dwell on it.

"You are right, father." A prince had to sacrifice his own wishes for the well-being of his people. He gripped a chair, his knuckles turning white. "I will make an... appropriate choice." He backed out of the room, already building up walls that he had broken down.

He couldn’t face Merlin. He went to bed without another word.

 

Merlin stood in the crowd with the people of Camelot. His heart was beating twice as fast as its regular rate. He couldn’t help but feel elated. His smile was directed at the prince; he awaited the beginning of the ceremony to announce Arthur’s engagement.

Uther came forward. Merlin wasn’t sure if the king knew who Arthur was going to choose to marry, but he couldn’t care right now. Today was going to be the start of something good. “As reigning king of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, proudly present to my subjects, my son and your prince: Arthur Pendragon.” A fanfare played and Arthur stepped forward.

“People of Camelot. You are gathered here today to witness my announcement of my bride, and your future Queen. I am honored by the arrival of each and every one of you.”

Merlin could hardly keep his attention on the speech. His mind raced. He wondered what Arthur would say. Merlin couldn’t believe this was happening. Suddenly, nothing felt real. Merlin was in a sea of people, yet all he could see was Arthur, there on the balcony. The prince was holding his arms out, gesturing to the crowd. Arthur turned and suddenly Merlin’s heart sank…

What was he thinking? He must have been mad to believe anything different. Merlin felt like a simpleton. He melted away into the crowd.

There she was: Lady Guinevere.

This should not have been a surprise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

 

Arthur stood in his chambers, naked, staring at the clothes he had to choose from. He scratched his head with his left hand on his hip.

“Merlin!”

Merlin could barely bring himself to step forward. His eyes were fixed on a stone on the floor. He refused to look up.

“Merlin, are you paying attention? I swear, you are half asleep today. I don’t know what to wear to the celebration! Could you please wake up?” Arthur tried veiling his feelings with anger. Merlin decided to wear his on his sleeve. 

Arthur’s tone changed as he looked at Merlin. Suddenly he had compassion and became the Arthur Merlin knew. “Don’t make me apologize, Merlin. You know what had to be done.” Merlin said nothing.

“Sit down, Merlin.” It was less of a command and more of a request. The prince waited for Merlin to respond. “Or stand...”

“I think I had better stand, my lord.”

“My lord?”

“You asked me not to call you ‘sire.’”

“Merlin, would you please talk to me!?” Merlin could see Arthur was struggling with this too.

Merlin decided to look his prince directly in the eye. “I know you did what you had to do. I understand. You are the future king of Camelot. Why would you want to be with a lowly servant? I understand completely… sire.” He looked down again.

“You know I want to be with you, right?” Hearing that sentence out loud came as more of a shock than Merlin had expected. The prince stood up and took the few painful steps across the room to Merlin. His finger pulled Merlin’s chin up, forcing him to look his prince in the eye. “I truly am sorry.”

He was sincere, he really was, but Merlin didn’t want an apology. He didn’t want an explanation. He wanted Arthur. Since his first day in Camelot, Merlin had given everything to serve his prince for his destiny. Was it selfish to want something in return? Was it so selfish to want to be with Arthur? He felt wetness in his eyes and jerked his head away.

How could he go on serving Arthur, seeing him every day, even in the nude, as he was now? How could he devote his life to a man that he knew would never give him what he wanted, needed? How could he watch Arthur marry Lady Gwen?

“Merlin…” Arthur said, his voice helpless, a mockery of his usual confidence.

“I don’t want to be left behind,” Merlin whispered.

“I’ll never leave you behind, Merlin,” Arthur said reflexively. “You’ll always be by my side, and I’ll always be by yours.”

That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, Merlin thought. He would have to watch Arthur with Guinevere every day. Still, even listening to his prince turn him down, Merlin’s body was filled with a steadfast love for Arthur. In the end, there wasn’t a question at all. Arthur needed Merlin, to protect him, to temper him, to share his sorrows. And Merlin needed Arthur, the way that fish need water or a tree needs the sun. There was no definition of where one man ended and the next began.

Right now, Arthur needed strength and approval. So Merlin shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and did what he did best: he was there for his prince. “I know that, Arthur.” Merlin opened his eyes and saw Arthur’s, looking for some assurance that he was doing the right thing, and that Merlin would forgive him. “Wear the red, Arthur. It suits you best, and you want to stand out at your engagement festivities tomorrow.”

Arthur blinked and his eyes darted to the pile of clothes on the floor of his closet. For a split second, Merlin hoped he would leave it all and stay with the man he truly loved. The struggle was plain on his face, but Arthur knew his duty deep down in his core, and he would never forsake Camelot. And Merlin would not have it any other way. Despite the empty hollow inside himself where Arthur’s love belonged, he felt happiness, for the vision of a fair and just Camelot was being built right now, between them.

 

Merlin nitpicked until Arthur looked his best: bold, proud, and handsome.

“How do I look?” The future king of Camelot stood before him. Merlin couldn’t help but smile at his prince. Merlin didn’t speak, just looked at his love. “That bad?” Arthur asked in a worried voice.

Merlin took a step forward to adjust Arthur’s collar. “Not at all, Arthur.” Their gazes met.

“Hmm, ‘Arthur’?” the prince taunted.

“You look great. Arthur.” Merlin smiled with the ease of speaking the prince’s name. There was nothing he enjoyed more than looking in to those blue eyes and speaking that name.

“Merlin, I want to give you something for tonight.” The prince almost pranced across the room. Merlin chuckled at his bound over a pile of clothes on the floor. Arthur stopped at his night stand. He pulled something out of the top drawer. He smiled at Merlin before returning to the other side of the room. He grabbed Merlin’s hand. Merlin thought his heart was going to jump right out the window. His stomach dropped and he could hear his pulse in his head.

“I know this is a bit unorthodox. I am sorry that this is all I can give you, but…” Arthur trailed off. Merlin couldn’t remove his eyes from Arthur’s. He tried to look at the object that was placed in his hand, but Merlin wanted Arthur to finish. The prince took a deep breath. “This is the royal pin. I know that means nothing to you, but it’s an old tradition…” He paused, as if waiting for Merlin to interrupt. “A prince of Camelot is supposed to give it to his future queen. It represents trust and loyalty. By accepting the pin the princess is accepting her duties, not only as a wife, but also as a queen to her people.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t entirely sure it was intended for him. Was he missing something?

“I’m sure Lady Guinevere will love it.” This was almost a question. Merlin tried not to offend the prince, but he honestly was confused.

“Oh shut up, Merlin.” Arthur’s hand met Merlin’s face with a playful slap, but lingered on Merlin’s cheek as he spoke to his manservant. “I want you to have it. You are the one that I want to pledge loyalty to. You are the only person I trust with all my heart. I…” The prince’s voice broke and he looked at the pin in his hand. “I know we could never really be together, but I want you to have it.”

“Won’t the king expect Lady Guinevere to have this?” Merlin wanted to accept this gift, but he wasn’t sure what it meant to Arthur. Of course Merlin would always be loyal to Arthur, and of course the prince could trust him, but what did this mean for them?

“Merlin, I want you to have this. A minor tradition will slip the mind of the king, and if not… I’ll tell him I lost it. It doesn’t matter. The point is: it’s yours. And I want you to know it would mean the world to me if you accepted it.”

Arthur’s hand wrapped around Merlin’s, closing the trembling hand with the gold pin. Merlin felt like crying, though he felt no sadness. Walking into this room only an hour ago, Merlin had thought his heart would never mend. He looked at his prince and ventured a kiss. He slowly leaned in, unconfident that Arthur would reciprocate. Arthur’s hand found the back of Merlin’s head. His fingers ran smoothly through the dark hair of the serving boy. The kiss was soft and short. Arthur lingered waiting for more, but Merlin decided to speak.

“I will accept the pin, Arthur, and all that it stands for. I believe in you. I believe in the Camelot you will bring about one day. I will always be loyal and true to you, Arthur. Only to you. I only ask you do the same for me in return.” Merlin was not confident in his last sentence. It was nearly a whisper. But he stood his ground and waited for a reply.

“Merlin, I would do anything for you.” Merlin waited for the inevitable excuse. He waited for the prince to tell him another reason why they couldn’t be together. He waited for the prince to say something, anything. But all that came was another kiss. This one was long and passionate. Merlin didn’t want it to end.

When they finally separated the prince looked serious. He took a step back from Merlin, and looked at the floor.

“Merlin, there is just one thing.” The prince looked nervous.

“What is it?” Merlin’s hands shook and his head sank. He expected the worst. He prepared, again, for a rebuttal. The prince struggled to find the words he wished to say.

“We will have to leave before sunrise if we are to evade the guards.”

 

Merlin hurried down the hallways of the castle, eventually making his way to the corridor where he lived with Laudine. When he opened the door, he saw that Laudine was not in, which gave him relief along with regret. There was nothing he could say to explain himself to her, not in a way that she would understand or accept. But she was still the closest thing Merlin had to family in Camelot and he hated to leave without a goodbye.

Nevertheless, he made his way to his room and immediately began packing. He hardly dared to think about what he was doing. Packing to leave… with Arthur. He held the pin in his hand and he remembered Arthur’s lips, passionate and lovely. Merlin, I would do anything for you. The words echoed over and over in his thoughts. Merlin closed his eyes for a moment and breathed. His heart was beating too fast and his hands shook, but out of excitement this time, not fear.

He finished his work soon, because he had few enough possessions, even after living in Camelot for so long. Most of his time was spent with Arthur, so he hadn’t bothered to acquire anything for his room. Now, it paid off. Arthur’s possessions, on the other hand, would require some paring down. Merlin smiled and picked up his pack, making his way discreetly back to Arthur’s room. He would need help packing. Merlin took delight in the thought of helping Arthur pack. It was silly, yes, but Merlin would do anything for Arthur.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 

The woods were dark and cold, yet Merlin felt happiness swelling inside him, keeping his mind on Arthur and not the cold, wet atmosphere around him. His horse followed close behind Arthur’s. The sun would rise soon and though Ealdor was three full days away, they needed to cover as much distance as possible.

"Do you want to stop and rest?" The prince turned and looked at Merlin from his white horse. His gaze always caught Merlin off guard. “We still have a few hours before dawn.”

Suddenly Merlin had a flash of a vision. There was a rider following the same path the prince and his servant had chosen. Merlin was unsure of the identity of this rider, but he was sure he or she was not more than an hour behind them.

"We should ride on till morning. There is no need to stop just yet." Merlin paused before continuing.  He was always hesitant to talk about his foresight in front of Arthur. Merlin’s foresight was a part of his powers and he never felt comfortable telling Arthur what he felt was ahead. Merlin had to come up with a reasonable explanation for each warning he gave his prince. “Do you think anyone saw us?"

"Don't be silly, Merlin. I know that castle better than I know the back of my own hand. No one saw us."

"But how can we be sure?" Merlin couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following them.

"You worry too much." Arthur laughed as if someone had just told a joke. Merlin stayed quiet, his eyes darting from left to right as fast as his heart was pounding in his chest.

"Arthur, I have a feeling we are being followed."

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin." With this statement Merlin snapped. Arthur may have cared about him, but there were times he doubted Merlin. Merlin never doubted the price for a second and he wished he could be shown the same respect. Merlin was well aware he was just a servant, but he had thought that he was more than that to Arthur. He was frustrated with keeping secrets from Arthur, but he wished that his thoughts could be treated with the respect they deserved.

"Arthur, will you shut up and listen to me!? Just this once, could you please put your arrogance aside and listen to someone other than yourself!" Merlin knew this was a mistake, even before the last sentence finished. Their newfound relationship was still fragile, and this would be hard to mend. Merlin knew he was right, but regretted the anger in his voice. Arthur was not good at breaking habits and he had always talked to Merlin this way since they had first met.

Merlin had already forgiven the prince, but he knew he would not be forgiven so easily by Arthur. The prince stopped his horse and looked at Merlin. He was deciding the fate of the servant before him. No one had spoken to the price in that way before. Even Merlin had never been that outwardly defiant. Slowly Arthur’s face turned from anger to hurt. He turned around and continued on the path.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Merlin." He sounded as if he was not finished, but both men knew he needn't say more. Merlin’s angry words lingered in the air and his apology would not blow them away easily. Merlin didn’t speak. He had spoken his mind already and now he had to plan to evade their pursuer.

 

It was still dark out, but Arthur decided to stop and rest. Merlin tried to hide his anxiety. He wasn’t sure what Arthur was thinking; the only words spoken in the past hour were Arthur’s, telling Merlin they would set up camp.

The two men sat in silence around the fire. Merlin felt it was Arthur’s place to speak first, but he knew Arthur was waiting for him to speak. “My mother will be happy to take us in for a few nights till we sort everything out.” Merlin knew this wasn’t vital information, but he was desperate to break the ice between them. He had just gained the prince; the thought of losing him again was unbearable.

“Merlin, do you think we made a mistake?”

“Arthur…”

“I mean to say…” The prince was obviously struggling for words, so he decided to address Merlin’s earlier comments. “Do you really think I’m arrogant?”

“I was just frustrated,” Merlin began, but the prince wasn’t finished.

“It was arrogant of me to leave Camelot that way. I shouldn’t have made such a selfish choice. I…” Arthur’s face found his hands and he didn’t move for a moment. Merlin waited. The situation was delicate, and Arthur needed a minute to gather his thoughts.

“Merlin.” Arthur looked up at him again. “I don’t want you to feel like I don’t listen to you. I don’t want to be arrogant. And I certainly don’t want to abandon Camelot. I feel like I’ve made a mistake. I want you to tell me I’m wrong. If you say that what I did was right then I will continue on, but if you have any doubts, Merlin, please… tell me now.”

There was no answer Merlin could give with which he would be satisfied. Going back to Camelot would mean hiding his feelings again. Masking what had already flowered would be unthinkable, but Arthur was right. It was a mistake to leave Camelot like that. Uther would be fine without the prince, but Arthur’s place would always be in Camelot. Merlin had to be honest with him.

“You are right. It was wrong to leave Camelot. You are the prince and ruling is your destiny. Our destinies cannot intertwine the way... the way we want them to.” Merlin’s head was low and he mumbled his words. Arthur must have seen his sadness because he didn’t let him finish.

“Please, Merlin…” The prince moved in closer to his servant. They huddled together near the fire. They were just barely touching, and Merlin longed for them to be closer. Abruptly, Arthur took a short deep breath inward before standing and moving back to the other side of the fire. Merlin understood the prince’s sudden movement, but still felt a pang of bitterness towards the action.

The hard log beneath Merlin brought little comfort. The pin Arthur had given him not four hours earlier was the only thing that kept Merlin from running away then and there.

 

The sun was high above them when the two men awoke. Arthur rose first, rushing to pack the supplies. The afternoon sun mocked the two travelers, suggesting they would not return with a warm welcome from Uther.

“Merlin, we must return to Camelot before they realize we have left," Arthur said when Merlin showed no sign of moving.

“You think they haven’t yet?” Merlin said crossly. The tension from the early morning had not yet gone.

Arthur began to remove himself emotionally from this situation. “Don’t start, Merlin. Get up and help me. Now.” Arthur made sure he did not look at his servant. He could not handle seeing Merlin hurt by his cold tone.

Their proximity made it difficult to build a wall and Arthur could not help but notice the way that Merlin seemed not to care. He was having no trouble hiding his emotions! Suddenly Arthur’s stress turned to anger. “You could have lied to me," he snapped.

“What?” Merlin looked genuinely confused.

Arthur picked up a pan to put it away. “Why didn’t you lie to me, Merlin? We could have been in Ealdor by now. We could have been blissfully happy. Not...” He stopped himself short and threw the pan he was holding to the ground.

“Arthur… Please. Don’t.” Merlin was not angry. He was too steadfast to react to Arthur’s accusation.

Arthur deflated. “I can’t pretend anymore…” He looked at his servant, watching him sadly. He felt tears in his eyes, but did not try to stop them. “I can’t.”

“Trust me… I understand." Merlin looked away. "More than you know.”

Arthur thought about the journey ahead. He did not want to face his father and admit he had been wrong. He did not want Merlin to go back to being no more than a servant. And then there was Gwen waiting for him. He turned away again, annoyed. “You will not be forced to marry another! At least you have that.”

“But to watch the one you love marry another? Surely, you can’t mean that is the easier path?” Merlin retorted.

Arthur’s anger subsided. “Love?” He looked at Merlin and let everything he felt show through in his gaze.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” Merlin didn’t even blink as he said this.

“I, uh…” Arthur knew the word that should follow, but his mouth wouldn’t form it. The word had not been spoken aloud between the two of them yet. Nevertheless, it sounded so natural coming from Merlin’s lips. It warmed Arthur’s heart and he finally found the courage to speak. “I feel the same way, Merlin -”

He did not have time to think of more of a response, though. He heard a sound and grabbed Merlin’s shoulder, pushing him to a tree and down below the line of sight. "Stay down," he said softly. He stood over Merlin, tensely surveying the surrounding woods.

A small figure materialized from across the clearing. Arthur relaxed as he recognized Lady Guinevere. She strode towards him, clearly angry, but Arthur was just glad Merlin was safe. Gwen, he could deal with, though he clearly had some explaining to do.

"Arthur Pendragon," she growled when she reached him. "What are you doing in the woods when you should be at the festivities for our engagement? And where is Merlin? I saw him leave with you." Merlin stood up slowly, revealing himself. She turned her glare to him for a moment, then back to Arthur.

A rush of guilt came over him. He had acted rashly, thinking only of Merlin and his own wishes. "Guinevere. I have wronged you."

"Oh, I know that! You left your home, your people, and your future wife on the worst possible day to traipse about the woods with a servant. What were you thinking?"

Arthur clenched his jaw. "Merlin is not just a servant, Gwen." She knew better, anyway. "He's my... friend." She was kind to Merlin, despite the difference in ranks.

"Friend?" Guinevere took a step closer to Arthur. "Or lover?"

Arthur pointedly avoided looking at Merlin, but Gwen knew him very well. There was no use in denying it at this point. "How did you find out?" he asked quietly.

Gwen sighed and glanced at Merlin before looking back at Arthur. Arthur saw the release of her tension and realized she had not known, only guessed. "It was obvious to anyone paying attention, Arthur. You spend more time with him than with anyone else. You prefer his company even to my own. And, the way you look at him..."

Arthur listened and heard the slight tone of longing in her voice. He had known how she felt about him and only used it to his advantage. "Gwen, I... I'm sorry. I..." he hesitated, even though he knew what he must do. Even faced with his mistakes, he was loathe to go back and forsake what he had with Merlin.

Guinevere smiled sadly. "Arthur, you are a good and handsome man. I have come to love you. I knew I would never occupy your heart the way that Merlin does, but I knew you cared about me. And in the end, I knew it had to be me that you married. You would give me the crown and I would rule Camelot by your side. But Merlin’s place would remain the same.

"When I saw you leave with Merlin, though, I knew I had underestimated your feelings for him. I knew you wouldn't come back unless I followed you. Look, both of you." She included Merlin now, and he tensed, not sure what was to come of this. "I will not fight for what I cannot have. But I will fight for Camelot. So come back home. You know you should. You need to be there to lead and protect, Arthur. And as for our marriage..." She paused, as if coming to a decision. "I am sure we can come to some arrangement. Just don't abandon your people."

Arthur took a deep breath. She was right. And she was willing to sacrifice her own feelings for his sake. Arthur turned to Merlin, searching his eyes for answers, but found none. His servant just believed he would always do what was right. Arthur reached out, took Merlin’s hand firmly, and raised him up. He was not sure what to do yet, but he would not give up this man. "You're right, Gwen. Whatever happens, I won't let Camelot suffer for my mistakes. I will return, and I will repay you for the humiliation I have given you."

Guinevere lost some of her anger. "Thank you," she whispered. Arthur squeezed his servant's warm hand in his own. They would head back, still, but he was more at ease now, knowing that Lady Gwen was on their side. He would discover the right path to take and somehow, he would do it holding Merlin’s hand.

 

A servant left the room, closing the door quickly. They never stayed long in his chambers; Uther enjoyed his solitude. His room was silent once again, with only the faint sounds of the city below. Uther rubbed his balding head and looked at his cluttered desk. He stood with purpose and decided that sitting would not bring his son back.

The fool.

In the night, Arthur had run off with Lady Guinevere. Neither were in their chambers this morning, without even an alibi. It was bad enough that Arthur had announced his engagement to Lady Guinevere, deliberately disobeying Uther’s orders. But to run off in the night, abandoning his duties to his people, was impulsive and immature. He could hardly believe Arthur to be so deceitful, but they must have planned to elope just to be sure that Uther could not stop them.

Arthur had qualities that were promising, but Uther worried about his skills to take the throne. Despite their disagreements, Uther always saw good in Arthur. He was his son. There were times where Uther believed Arthur was the better man, more fitting for the crown. Then there were times, like now, that he couldn’t stand his son’s insolence.

There was a knock on the door and Uther called the visitor in. It was Sir Bors, the High Constable. “Sire, we have sent scouts out to the surrounding regions of Camelot. He couldn’t have strayed far. We have searched all morning, but still no sign of him.” The man was apologetic, so Uther went to meet him.

“Good. I know you are doing all you can.”  Uther stopped with the formalities and now spoke to his friend. “The arrogance of that boy. I swear…”

“My lord, he must have his reasons. We can only hope for the prince’s hasty return. Lady Guinevere will be safe with him. All we can do is wait.”

Uther sighed, comforted by the Constable’s words. “Has King Lot returned home? He and Princess Mithia have traveled far and seemingly, this treaty arrangement was in vain.”

Bors cleared his throat before speaking. “They left the city immediately following Prince Arthur’s announcement.”

No written treaty would be made with King Lot through marriage; Uther could only hope that a continued peace was kept through simple trust. “The fool! The arrogant fool. Arthur must be found!”

Sir Bors stirred uncomfortably and stared at the ground. “Yes, my lord. Leon has taken a band of some of the best knights. He intends to bring Arthur home, I assure you.”

Sir Leon was Bors’ son, and one of the best knights of Camelot. Uther knew of Leon and Arthur’s strong bond; if any knight had the determination to bring his son back, it was Leon. Uther composed himself from his outburst and placed a hand on Sir Bors’ shoulder. “Thank you, my friend.”

Even if Arthur was missing, Camelot still maintained its strength. And despite his frustrations with Arthur, a persistent feeling of worry found its way into Uther’s mind.

 

The men had tried to go back to packing, but Lady Gwen stopped them. "Sit. Let us eat first, at least. Your father will be furious, Arthur, and we should not go back without a plan."

So they all sat down to some cheese and apples for lunch. No one spoke at first, every one of them feeling intrusive, guilty, and selfish, to a degree. Finally, Merlin decided to break the silence. This was not all Arthur’s fault, after all. It wasn't even mostly his fault. "Lady Guinevere, I apologize for all of this. I have let emotion cloud my judgment and I asked Arthur to be with me. We should have never left the castle, and I should have never tried to stand in the way of his duty. Arthur will be a great king, but only if he does not abandon his people. And you, Lady Guinevere, are one of those people. I disregarded your feelings and even the promises Arthur made to you. I am deeply sorry for that."

Arthur watched Merlin, eyes approving, body language defensive. He, like Merlin, didn't want to go back to pretending. Lady Gwen finished chewing and said, "Thank you, Merlin. I appreciate it. Let us move forward now and discuss the future. I don't deserve to break apart what you two have, but there is tradition to consider. And the king's approval."

They talked for some time about tradition and what would be best for Camelot. Merlin sat and listened. He had nothing to say. What he wanted could never be. He had to learn how to be content with the outcome of this plan.

"Merlin. Are you all right?” Arthur’s look gave Merlin nothing but comfort, but the answer was still no.

"Can we have a moment, Lady Guinevere?" Guinevere nodded and went to tend to the horses. "I know you have to be with her, Arthur.” Merlin did not look up as he spoke. "We both know that is best. You care about her, I know. And you trust her. "

"Not more than some..." The prince waited for Merlin to resume.

"Arthur, you need to be with her, and only her. It would not be right for you to marry her and… and love another. I need to remove myself from the arrangement. You shouldn’t consider me while making decisions for Camelot. Marrying Lady Guinevere is what’s best for the kingdom, and I have no right to stand in the way of that. I won't listen to any argument you may be forming right now. I know how you feel, and I know this will be hard for both of us. But it's for the best." Merlin stood before Arthur could answer. There was no response the prince could have given that would bring Merlin happiness.

 

Merlin walked slowly and without purpose. He was trying to find peace. He accepted his place, his destiny, but his mind was still in turmoil. He still wanted to change things.

He walked, crunching leaves and twigs with each step, not caring that he made noise, not even thinking about it. After all, they were going back to Camelot now, what danger could there be?

When he made a turn behind a tree and almost ran into a soldier, he was startled enough to just stand there for a moment. The man was startled too; apparently neither of them had been paying attention. Unfortunately, the soldier acted first.

"Who are you?" he called out as he drew his sword. Merlin stumbled back a step in order to avoid the blade.

"My name is Merlin," he replied quietly. His mind began to work quickly. This soldier, whoever he was, was probably not alone. His companions could be nearby. And though Merlin had intended to stay close to Arthur and Gwen, he did not know how far he had actually traveled. He couldn’t be sure if they would hear him if he shouted. Of course, he didn't want them in any trouble anyway, but there was no way to tell if they had been found too. "I am a peaceful traveler," he said.

The soldier hesitated, still for a moment. If he could distract the man, he could probably get away. Then, assuming he was not caught, he could make it back to camp. Merlin eyed the trees behind the soldier to find a branch heavy enough to make a loud crash if he felled it.

"Where are your belongings?" The soldier asked, sword still pointed at Merlin. "No one travels without so much as a bag."

As if he was answering the question, Merlin spoke the spell to break off his chosen branch. The soldier whirled around as he heard the loud crack and Merlin began running before he even heard the branch hit the ground. He ran back the way he had come, remembering walking along a small ridge. As soon as he found it, he jumped off the top and crouched at the bottom.

He paused a moment to catch his breath and listened to the shouts of the perplexed soldier. From the sound of it, the man did not yet know where Merlin had gone. With a quick sigh of relief, Merlin began to move below the ridge. He tried to stay quiet while still hurrying, and he was grateful for the many trees of the forest hiding his retreat.

Once he was a ways away, he paused and used his magical vision to check on their campsite. It was abandoned.

For the first time since encountering the soldier, Merlin felt truly worried. He searched the site mentally and noticed far too many footprints. He probably would not have caught even that much, had Arthur not taken the time to teach him what to look for. Merlin let his vision come back to where his body was. From there, he began to run.

He took the most direct route back, but because of his wandering before, this took him back up the ridge. He did not encounter the soldier he had eluded, but before he even reached the campsite, he found Arthur and Lady Gwen. Along with six foreign soldiers.

In his rush Merlin was caught by surprise and he was tied and gagged like his companions. More or less, he let it happen. He couldn’t use his magic in the open, and they were not yet in any danger. If they waited, they could find more information, and hopefully an ideal time to escape.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 

"We found the Pendragon boy in the woods, my lady," the scout said from on his knees. "He had no guards with him, just a servant and a lady. We are bringing all three in."

Morgause smiled at the man and waved him up. This was unexpected indeed. Assuming the scout was not mistaken - and Morgause did not put it past him - she would soon have a powerful bargaining tool in her hands.

"Perfect," she told him. "I'll be waiting right here." As the man left, she settled into the camp chair she had in her tent. The tent was plenty large enough to hold an audience with three prisoners. She might as well flaunt what extravagance she had to the prince.

But how had this come to be? Her sister Morgana kept her well updated, and she knew that today was the engagement celebration for the soon-to-be queen of Camelot, Lady Guinevere. In fact, that was the only reason Morgause had sent scouts so close to enemy territory; she knew all eyes would be on the city today. But what was the prince doing? Had he decided to elope with his future bride?

She would tread carefully until she knew all the details. After all, she wasn't quite ready to put things into motion yet.

On the other hand, if she could use Arthur to lure Uther from safety, this could go quite well for her. Uther Pendragon was always lurking in her thoughts, ever since he had begun to slaughter her kind. He hated sorcery almost as much as she hated being persecuted for an innate and unchangeable part of herself. Morgause was going to destroy him and all that he held dear, clearing the way for a world where people who had the gift of sorcery did not have to live in fear.

The tent flap rustled and the same scout peeked in. "My lady..." he glanced back outside, obviously nervous. Morgause relaxed in her chair to give an air of nonchalance, but she kept a confident smile on her face. "Bring them in," she told him.

He opened the tent flap wider and another soldier shoved the prisoners in one by one. All three had hands tied, mouths gagged, and no weapons, but they all stood straight and glared defiantly. Morgause frowned at the soldier who had done the shoving.

"Soldier, do you know who this is?" she asked. He stared at her dumbly. "This is the prince of Camelot!" The soldier opened his mouth, but Morgause spoke over him. "Untie all three of them and treat them with more respect," she scolded.

The soldier was trained well. Though clearly shocked, he untied them without question.

"Arthur Pendragon," she greeted. He was a handsome man, even scowling, and he held himself well. "I trust that you saw my army outside, so you know that an escape attempt would be fruitless." Arthur did not respond at all, so she moved on.

"Of course your servant has tagged along. You must never be far from your servant, I see." The boy looked straight forward, not saying a word, just like the prince.

Next in line was a young noblewoman. Morgause smiled and allowed herself a small chuckle. "And you my dear, you are no mere lady. You are Guinevere, the prince’s bride!" Lady Guinevere glared at Morgause. "What a prize! I am glad to meet the future queen of Camelot."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the servant display an odd tension when she identified the woman. She brushed it off as she turned back to Arthur. "What brings you here today, your Highness? I was under the impression you would be otherwise... occupied."

"What do you want from us, Morgause?" Arthur’s voice was low and steady. She noted his confidence. It was always better for a prisoner to be off-balance, if not afraid.

"From you? Oh, nothing at all! In fact, I was hoping you would stay and visit for a while."

"Let Merlin and Lady Gwen go. It’s me you want." Arthur said conclusively.

Morgause narrowed her eyes. "As long as you behave, Arthur Pendragon, I will have none of you harmed. If you try to defy me, however," she held her hand out toward Guinevere, whose eyes promptly grew wide. The girl began to claw frantically at the unseen force around her throat.

"Enough!" Arthur said as soon as he realized what was happening. "I will cooperate."

Morgause let Guinevere go and the girl slumped, gasping for breath. It hadn't even been more than a few seconds! She was weak, Morgause decided. "Good," she told him. "As I said, I want nothing from you, and I will treat you well. I have my sights set higher than you." She smirked, watching each of their faces figure it out.

Then, she turned to the closest soldier. "Have the men taken to a tent and fed, if they want it. Set two guards outside the tent at all times. I will keep the future queen with me."

The soldier nodded and led the two men away, this time taking care to be gentler. She had no reason to treat her guests poorly. Yet.

After the flap shut behind them, Morgause turned to Lady Guinevere and smiled again. "You understand your position with me, Guinevere, don't you?" she asked mildly.

"I'm a prisoner," she growled without looking up. Morgause sighed.

"Not just that, Guinevere. You are my leverage for the prince. He will do exactly as I want, if he doesn't want his precious fiancé hurt."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," she muttered. Morgause frowned. There was something about the way the girl had said that - not at all defiant, perhaps even resentful. Something was going on.

"He loves you; of course he'll want to protect you." Guinevere flinched slightly and said nothing. "Is there someone else, Lady Guinevere?"

"No," the girl said, too quickly. Much too quickly.

“You think he does not love you.” Morgause didn’t even bother posing this as a question. She knew the answer.

Guinevere avoided eye contact as she spoke, “Arthur cares most about Camelot.” She was circling the answer, but not giving Morgause anything to draw from. Maybe this wasn’t such a happy engagement.

Morgause relaxed and changed the topic. She decided to leave Guinevere alone with a guard keeping watch outside the tent. The soon-to-be queen was not going to be of anymore use.

Shortly, she would make her way to the tent where her real prize was, ready to find out why her leverage would not work. Arthur would be a more challenging target, but Morgause did not give up easily. A conversation with the prince could prove to be valuable; at the very least she could threaten Arthur himself.

She decided to go to him after dark, so Arthur had plenty of time to worry about his situation.

 

Gwen was trying her best not to cry. She was terrified and wanted to go home. She did not want to be subject to Morgause's wishes.

With a sigh, she sat down on the chair that her captor had occupied earlier. As she stared at the ground, she tried to think of a way to escape. After all, she couldn’t depend on the prince to save her.

She hated that she had followed Arthur. What was she thinking? Gwen never really believed that Arthur would love her the way he loved Merlin, but she thought he would at least be happy to see her. Why did it bother her so much? She needed to give up the idea of marrying the prince.

A single tear ran from her eye down her cheek. She wiped at it angrily. What was she doing? She needed to come up with a plan! Thinking about Arthur was pointless.

Just then, she heard someone enter the tent. She took a second to compose herself before lifting her face to confront her visitor. She lost all composure as soon as she saw him.

He looked just as she remembered: earnest, dark brown features that looked beyond her face directly into her soul. He wore Cenred's armor, but he was still pure-hearted Lancelot, of that she was certain.

"Lady Guinevere." He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "It's true, then?"

Gwen swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. She nodded. "Arthur and Merlin are here too. Lancelot... what are you doing here?"

His brow creased in worry and he knelt before her, checking her wrists, where the rope had rubbed and left red marks. Gwen was grateful for his attentions. Lancelot placed her hands in her lap and then met her eyes.

"I went to Essetir, hoping for a place to fit in. I had heard that Cenred's army was very well trained, and some had even come from the south, like me. My skills are appreciated here, but these men have no honor. And now I see they have less than I thought." He frowned pensively. "I will get you out of here, Gwen. You, as well as Merlin and your prince."

Gwen saw an opening and she took it. "If you can save us, Lancelot, I will be eternally grateful. Just know that Arthur is no longer my prince. He has chosen someone else."

Hope flared in Lancelot's eyes. "You are not going to marry him?"

Gwen smiled. He still loved her. And though she was hesitant to use the word love, so soon after being engaged, she felt the same connection to Lancelot she always had. Though time had dulled the passion, his proximity had rekindled it.

"Nothing is official yet, but I know Arthur's heart, and no matter what he says, I cannot marry someone who doesn’t love me."

Lancelot nodded solemnly and then stood. "I have to go, but I won't be gone long. I will bring you to safety, Gwen. I pledge my life to it." He hesitated briefly before turning away and she used that time to jump up and kiss him.

"I have faith in you, Lancelot." He left the tent with a smile.

 

Merlin fell to his knees as a guard pushed him into the small tent with Arthur.  The smell of wet grass was in the air and Merlin felt like throwing up. Merlin sat opposite of Arthur. Each prisoner had a chain around his ankle attached to a wooden pole in the center of the tent. The two sat in silence till the guards left.

“I’m sure my father will send some men to scout the woods after learning of my departure. He will find our camp and that will lead him here.” Arthur's tone tried on an air of reassurance, but Merlin could see past it. The last words Merlin had spoken to Arthur still lingered in the air between them. Arthur was hurt, but Merlin couldn’t address it. Merlin didn’t want to keep talking about things that could never change.

“Merlin?” The prince waited for a response from across the tent. Merlin’s eyes were on the far corner. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Arthur; it was too hard.

“Do I have to speak to myself?” Arthur waited hopelessly for a response. “Is this part of the deal too? You don’t even talk to me anymore. Now, I must marry Lady Guinevere, and you and I both get to be miserable. Do you want me out of your life completely?” Arthur’s tone was turning into anger. “Why don’t I get a say in this too, Merlin?” Arthur’s anger had subsided quicker than it had come. “Please say something.” The prince’s voice cracked.

Somehow Arthur was less worried about the fact that they had been kidnapped, and that Lady Guinevere was being held hostage, than he was about Merlin not speaking to him. Merlin pondered this and slowly realized how much Arthur really did care for him. He felt the weight of this on his heart and it slowly became harder to breath.

“There is nothing more to say…” Merlin finally managed to get out. He took a few deep breaths before continuing. “Please don’t be upset. You know that this is the way things have to be. I’m just trying to do what is right.”

“I know Merlin. You’re right. But it doesn’t make this any easier. I just wish it had been a discussion. Instead, you were able to write me off like I meant nothing to you... and well…” the prince trailed off. It was clear Merlin had understood the point.

Suddenly, Merlin felt everything all at once. The pain of hiding his feeling for Arthur. The hurt of watching Arthur with Guinevere. The guilt of walking away from his destiny. And the disgust with himself for never being who he truly was, even with Arthur.

“Arthur, I know this is hard. But if you think for one moment that you mean nothing to me then maybe I didn’t make myself clear. I die every time I see you with her. I have to hold in that pain and bury it deep. If I don’t, then it would be impossible for me to fulfill my destiny.” With this Merlin stood. “It is my destiny to protect you and be sure you become the future king of Camelot. This needs to come before all else. Before us.” Merlin tried to ignore the pain his own words brought upon him. “The new kingdom you will create will bring about peace. And this idea is what keeps me from ripping out my heart whenever I am not with you.”

“Of course I wish the world was different, but it’s not. And you can pout about it and take it out on me, but you know I’m right.” The prince stared at Merlin in consternation.

Merlin let himself fall to the ground in defeat. “I can’t keep living in lies, either. I don’t want to hide who I am anymore. And if there is one thing I know Arthur, it is that I love you. I love you, and I want to be with you.” Merlin brought himself to the prince, who still sat on the ground against the post. He grabbed the hands of the future king. “Don’t you ever doubt that for a second! I trust you more than anything. Maybe one day you can change the world we live in, but until that day, we need to find a way to just survive.”

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe what he was planning to do, but the spell was already forming in his mouth. A small blue butterfly appeared in his hand after Merlin had muttered an incantation. “I want to be who I really am around you Arthur.” Arthur’s grasp loosened on Merlin’s hand. His face moved from fear to anger and then rested on a look that spoke of betrayal.

Merlin could feel a lump forming in his throat. It was a mistake. It had all been a mistake. Arthur’s eyes searched the tent for an escape. He was uneasy and desperate to leave the situation. With no way out, the prince settled on staring back at his servant.

Merlin looked down at the hand that the butterfly had just flown from. “I shouldn’t have told you like this. I’m sorry. I just… wanted you to know.” Merlin looked back up at his prince.

Arthur’s expression had turned to disbelief. “You… you have magic?” he questioned.

“I was born with it.” Merlin couldn’t help but let a smile of relief form on his lips. “It feels good to say it out loud.”

“You kept this from me all this time?”

“I had to. You would have…”

“What?”

“Well, I don’t know.” And Merlin really didn’t know. He had been so used to hiding his magic, and he had certainly never planned to tell the son of the king. But this was Arthur who never seemed to follow exactly in the footsteps of his father. Magic may have been banned under Uther’s law, but Arthur never showed any disdain towards those who practiced it.

“And you chose to tell me now?”

“Yes. I am tired of living a lie. If I can’t be with you… Well, I at least want you to know who I really am. I want you to understand my decisions. And I want you to know that no matter what I will always be here for you, to fulfill my destiny, and to fulfill my duties that come along with the royal pin you gave me.”

Arthur’s head lowered to the ground. Merlin’s knees dug deep into the wet grass, and his hands rested limp in his lap. He was still sitting right in front of Arthur, and all Merlin could hear was Arthur’s breathing. The silence had lasted what seemed like a lifetime, but Arthur eventually brought his head back up to the eye level of his manservant.

“You really mean that?” The prince had a sheepish look on his face that brought blood to Merlin’s cheeks.

“I do.” Merlin smiled. Arthur returned the smile before kissing his manservant.

Merlin’s thoughts immediately drifted from “destiny” and “duties” to rest on one consuming thought: Arthur.

This kiss was more passionate than the one shared only last night in Arthur’s chambers. Merlin’s lust intensified quickly as the two men refused to separate. Arthur’s arms wrapped around Merlin’s torso, drawing him nearer. Merlin could feel his excitement swell as he let himself go in the moment. He was lost in Arthur. The prince lay back on the ground slowly moving Merlin over him. The ease of being with Arthur kept Merlin relaxed as he explored the body of his prince.

Both had forgotten where they were and had forgotten the deal to be apart from one another. Merlin’s mind was only on being closer to his prince.

Merlin’s fingers ran through the blond hair of the future king. Arthur’s hands found their way under Merlin’s shirt and he slowly pulled it off. Merlin allowed Arthur to roll over onto of him. Arthur took control and removed his own shirt. Every touch, every movement of the prince brought Merlin closer to bliss. His breathing intensified as Arthur removed the last of his clothing.

Arthur kissed Merlin’s neck and reached between Merlin’s legs. His touch was soft; his movements were slow and sensual, at first. As the prince continued, Merlin’s pleasure escalated. Each motion edged Merlin closer to fulfillment. A wave of ecstasy rushed over him and Arthur's hand followed the lines of Merlin’s body. As he traced his neck, his fingers tangled themselves into Merlin’s hair. He lifted Merlin’s head towards him and kissed him.

Merlin was back on top of Arthur. He moved along the prince’s body with curiosity, kissing the prince’s chest as he made his way down past Arthur’s torso. Merlin felt Arthur’s body tense with anticipation as Merlin began slowly. He moved in unison with the prince and sensed that he was ready. The prince was breathing heavily with satisfaction as Merlin finished.

 

Morgause ate in silence. She couldn’t eat with her soldiers which made mealtimes very lonely. Soon, though, she would be able to share the burden of leadership with her sister. Together, they would rebuild Albion, making it a sanctuary for sorcerers. Uther’s cruel grip on the land would be a thing of memory.

Looking at her plate, food only half-eaten, she sighed. Instead of finishing, she took a long gulp of wine and stood up. She wasn’t really hungry anyway. She would go pay a visit to the prince of Camelot and see what she could wheedle out of him.

She composed herself and strode out of the tent, purposeful and confident. The two guards who had been standing outside of her tent followed in her wake. They were unnecessary, for she could defend herself physically and with magic, but leaders were expected to have guards, and they looked professional. “Wait here,” she told the men when she reached her destination. They arranged themselves next to the two guards already outside Arthur’s tent and then Morgause slipped inside.

She stopped just inside and let the tent flap close behind her. Her brows raised and she let her lips curl slowly into a smirk. “Hello, boys.”

The prince was naked, splayed out on the grass, his face a familiar mask of content. Astride him, and also naked, was his manservant. Merlin, she remembered. Startled by her voice, both turned to meet her gaze. Somewhat guiltily, they scrambled to cover themselves appropriately. Morgause laughed.

“No need to worry. There’s nothing here I haven’t seen before.” She paused and then added, “Though perhaps not together like this.” Arthur had the grace to blush. Merlin just looked angry. Now she knew why Lady Guinevere was so certain that Arthur was not interested in her. “Go ahead, make yourselves decent,” she said when neither man made a move to do so.

She watched bemused as the servant clothed himself and Arthur waited, his lower half covered with a shirt. The boy did have a very fine body. “Unless you want to remain in the nude, Arthur,” she purred. “I rather enjoy the sight.” Arthur turned to glare at her as the servant finished dressing. Then he moved to help Arthur put his clothes on and Morgause rolled her eyes. The helpless prince couldn’t even dress himself.

Finally ready to face her with dignity, Arthur took a step toward her, managing to almost block her view of the servant. “What do you want, Morgause?”

“I came here to inform you that your lover is doing well and that she will continue this way unless you try to escape. It seems, however, that I have the wrong lover in my grasp.” Arthur tensed, to Morgause’s interest. She moved deeper into the tent so that she could see the servant again. She watched Arthur’s protective stance as she walked. With a glance at the prince, she asked, “How would you like to get out of those chains, Merlin?”

“I’m staying with Arthur,” the boy said steadily. As if he could defy her.

“Arthur,” she said without taking her eyes off Merlin, “Tell the lad to behave. You don’t want him hurt, do you?”

“You are going to regret this, Morgause,” Arthur growled. She turned to the prince, mildly surprised, and ascertained that he actually had feelings for his servant. He then put a hand on his lover’s shoulder. She narrowed her eyes and moved toward Arthur, hand moving to her sword.

“Arthur Pendragon,” she said. “Your presence here is a stain on this earth. If I could, I would kill you now. However, I need you in good shape, so that I can lure out your father. He is the one I really need to kill. So why don’t we make a deal? You tell me how to get into the castle unnoticed and I will let your sweet Merlin go.”

“No,” the servant said angrily, but Arthur patted the boy absently on the shoulder. His brow was furrowed. Oh, he didn’t like it, but he was considering her offer. She smiled. “Arthur, you can’t possibly -”

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice suddenly rang with command. The servant scowled, raising Morgause’s brow. Such impudence! The prince and he were clearly on very familiar terms. “You will not harm him?” Arthur asked.

Morgause nodded. “He is of no use to me, except to bargain with you.”

“Very well,” he said solemnly. But the servant shoved Arthur aside and shouted. A wall of force threw her back and onto the ground. Shocked and unable to breath, she clenched her jaw to bear the onslaught of pain. The soldiers’ armor clanked as they ran into the tent. Finally, she managed a breath and rolled to her feet, eyes locked on Merlin. She let her rage fuel her magic and she blasted a wave of fire at him. He screamed as he fell and she grinned triumphantly.

The world wobbled a bit and then one of the soldiers was steadying her. She blinked and breathed in smoke. Merlin was dead on the dirt. Arthur was shouting, struggling frantically against his two captors. The flames of her fire were licking at the bottom of the tent. “Tend to the fire!” she snapped at the fourth soldier, who was standing uselessly.

What had she done? She had not only ruined her chances of getting information from Arthur freely, she had lost her calm demeanor in front of him and her men. She jerked away from the soldier who was holding her up. “Think on that, Arthur,” she said, grasping at straws to reestablish dominance. “You know now the power I have.” With that, she whirled and strode out of the tent, far away from Arthur Pendragon and his dead manservant.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

 

An entire day, and Arthur was still missing. Most of the knights and guards were still on the search for the prince. Uther began to forget his initial anger and let the worry for his son absorb him.

He hadn’t left his room all day. He was helpless in here and could only hope that Sir Bors would bring him good news. Maybe a change of scenery would do him some good. Uther stood from his desk and made his way to Morgana’s chambers.

His lovely ward, Lady Morgana. Uther always took comfort in Morgana’s presence. She was just like her mother, strong and opinionated. Not a day went by that Uther didn’t think of Morgana’s mother. When she died, Uther took Morgana in as his ward; she was his daughter after all, though his people would never know that secret.

“Lady Morgana?” Uther called from outside her door. “May I come in?”

He heard he move towards the door, and even before it was open, he felt his nerves die away; she would always bring him joy.

 

The guards released Arthur before leaving the tent. Immediately he rushed to Merlin’s side. Morgause’s magic was strong, but Arthur believed in Merlin.

His small frame was limp in the prince’s arms. Arthur searched desperately for any sign of life. Arthur could feel the tears pool in his eyes and he tried to keep a level head for Merlin’s sake. There was no use. Arthur was no physician. What could he do? Arthur did not do well in positions he had no control over.

“Merlin, please.” He looked down on the face of his servant. The cheeks, which had so many times revealed that innocent smile to Arthur, were now pale and lifeless. Arthur could hardly breathe.

He brought his manservant closer to him and kissed his soft, dark hair. Arthur couldn’t lose him. He had just had him… He couldn’t let him slip away so easily. Arthur sat back, again wondering what he could do. Merlin would know. He would say something about destiny or whatever he always rambled on about.

Arthur feared how much he cared about the man in his arms. What would he do without his manservant? His confidant. His friend. Arthur feared the answer was to give up… he couldn’t let Merlin slip away.

Arthur decisively stood up. He searched the room for something to break the chains that held them in this miserable tent. Arthur’s hand found his face and he rubbed his chin as he realized he had no options.

“Merlin… not now. Not now! Don’t do this, you idiot!” Arthur could feel his mind slip away as the thought of losing Merlin consumed him. He sank once again to the ground. The prince let his head fall to his knees. Defeated, the prince closed his eyes and wept softly.

 

His nerves tingled as he took step after deliberate step on his way to his posting: Lady Guinevere’s tent. Lancelot could not hurry; he could not seem eager. He had to make sure no one suspected anything. It was an effort to keep his face neutral and his hands from trembling.

After an eternity, he stopped in front of one of his erstwhile companions. Lancelot didn’t know the man well - was it Lewys? - but he didn’t care anymore. He had already cut all mental and emotional ties to these men. He would bring Guinevere, Merlin, and Arthur back to Camelot. Then, if need be, he would leave again and start anew. He didn’t mind. As long as Lady Gwen was safe.

He exchanged nods with Lewys and then the man walked away. His heart was thundering now and he took a few deep breaths to steady himself. He could not walk in there with any doubts. Lancelot glanced around to be sure no one was near or paying attention. Then he slipped inside.

Gwen was in his arms before his eyes had a chance to adjust to the sudden darkness. Her hair was soft against his cheek and her scent brought him back to a happier time. He put his arms around her, but then reluctantly shifted them to grip her shoulders and pull her back. “Guinevere, we need to be quick,” he murmured.

He handed Lady Gwen a bundled up cloak to drape around her shoulders, hoping it would be enough. Lancelot already had armor stowed away for Arthur and Merlin to wear to blend in with the other soldiers, but Guinevere was too small for anything to fit. Fortunately, an army required many servants: cooks, washing women, messengers. She should pass as any one of them.

“I’m ready, Lancelot,” she said, the tone of her voice telling him that she trusted him implicitly. He took comfort from that fact and exited the tent, leading the way to the place where he had left the armor. Lady Gwen helped him carry the disguises and then came the hard part. They crept through the dark quietly and carefully, avoiding the places that Lancelot knew soldiers would congregate at night.

Despite a few almost-exposures, they made it to the back of a tent near the edge of camp. “Are you sure this is it?” Lady Guinevere whispered. Lancelot nodded and then, remembering that she couldn’t see him, gave her a verbal answer.

He pulled out his knife and fumbled at the canvas of the tent. Something felt wrong, though it was too dark to see anything specific. It seemed as if a part of the canvas was missing. He was too far in to retreat, though, so he cut a slit through the canvas to the top. He paused, to make sure the guards at the front of the tent had not heard, and then crawled inside.

Lancelot heard the faint sound of a chain clinking. “Who’s there?” It was Arthur’s voice. Despite his assurances to Guinevere, Lancelot sighed in relief.

“It is Lancelot, my lord,” he said as softly as he could. “I have come to bring you and Merlin to safety. I already have Lady Guinevere, so we don’t have much time. And you must be silent; the guards are still just outside.”

There was a pause and Lancelot felt Lady Gwen move forward next to him. “Arthur?” she whispered.

“Is that really you, Lance? I thought you… Nevermind. Lancelot, Gwen, I can’t leave Merlin… He… He’s...”

“Is he all right?” Guinevere asked anxiously.

“He fell victim to Morgause’s magic. I fear he will not wake.” Lancelot heard the despair in Arthur’s voice. This came as a shock to Lancelot; he knew that Arthur cared about his servants, but this was something different entirely.

Lancelot swallowed hard. He had his own steed; perhaps they could tie Merlin to the horse. Lady Gwen would have to walk, which Lancelot did not like, but she was strong. She would keep up.

Without another word, he felt his way through the pitch black until he found the cold iron shackles binding his friends. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key he had stolen earlier. It had been risky, but the plan had gone through without a hitch. He unlocked the band around Arthur’s foot first and then placed the key in his hand so that he could do the same for Merlin.

Meanwhile, Lancelot reached behind himself and picked out a single set of armor. Merlin would not need it. He only wished he had brought an extra cloak, to hide Merlin’s face. Regrets would take him nowhere, though. When he heard the tiny click of the band coming undone, he began to pass the armor to Arthur, who slipped it on easily. Morgause did not have the funds to provide full chainmail and plate, as Uther did. Each soldier wore hard, boiled leather.

When Lancelot moved to pick up Merlin, Arthur stopped him with a hand on his chest. “I’ll do it,” he whispered. Lancelot could not argue; they had no time. He crawled out first, checking the surroundings. No one was in sight, so he reached in and touched Gwen’s shoulder to let her know it was safe. She emerged and stood up next to him and they each held open a flap so that Arthur could exit more easily with his manservant in his arms. Lancelot observed Arthur as they all left the camp and began to make their way through the woods. He became concerned about the meaning behind the prince’s unwavering attention to his servant. He left the worry for later when he found a clearing far enough away from the army.

“Arthur, you can sit, let Merlin down. I am going back to camp to fetch my horse. No one will come by this way, but stay alert, just in case. And Lady Guinevere… stay close to Arthur.” He left before anyone could respond. He had to trust Arthur to take care of her. They needed the horse to carry Merlin, or they would move far too slowly.

He found his way back to the camp quickly, and strode toward the picket lines. No one minded a single soldier at night. No problem would arise unless someone who knew he was on duty recognized him. He moved quickly to the pickets and managed to wake his horse and lead it away without waking any others. Grateful for his luck, he saddled the animal and led it back to where his friends waited.

 

Lancelot was hesitant to take charge, but Arthur only had one thing on his mind: getting Merlin back to Laudine. Lancelot led the two men and Gwen confidently through the woods. Arthur could see how Gwen looked at Lancelot and felt relieved, not only for his own sake: he was truly happy for her.

Merlin was struggling to breathe as Arthur carried him. Lancelot tried to convince Arthur to let the horse carry Merlin, he even offered to take Merlin for the prince, but Arthur refused. The only way he knew Merlin would be safe was if he was in his arms.

The four trudged through the woods for an hour before they decided to set up camp. They were in the middle of the Valley of the Fallen Kings and Lancelot reminded them of the nearby druid camps. Arthur tried to ignore his reflex of assuming they were in danger because druids were near. In fact, Arthur didn’t know what he really believed. Here was Merlin, the man he trusted with his life, and he had magic. Merlin was the best man he knew, so how could magic be anything evil? Merlin was the furthest thing from the evil Arthur was made to believe that magic was. His father couldn’t be more wrong about magic, and Merlin was proof of that.

Gwen and Lancelot started setting up camp as Arthur found a safe place to gently lay Merlin. He was careful not to touch the burn on Merlin’s chest and decided to remove the remainder of his shirt. As he worked around the wound, he tried to distance himself from the situation, fearing that he would be unable to continue otherwise. When Arthur finished, Merlin made a soft noise of discomfort. Arthur had conflicting feelings of concern and delight for this was the first noise his servant had made since Morgause’s magic had struck him down.

Arthur could hear a noise in the distance. Something was in the darkness of the woods. It was possible it was just an animal, but Arthur refused to take any chances. He unsheathed his sword and waited for the creature to appear. A dark hooded figure was making its way towards the camp. Arthur jumped into action and demanded the figure to name itself.

“My name is Freya. Please, I mean you no harm. I could sense the boy was in pain and I came to help.”

Arthur tried to fight his immediate trust for this woman. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was belief in magic, but Arthur could not turn her away.

“You... sensed it?” the prince asked with an air of curiosity. The woman stepped into the firelight. Her hood was a forest green and she walked as if she were floating. Arthur could tell by her dress that she was a druid.

“Emrys possesses a great magic that is not easily silenced. I fear, even if I wanted to, I would have been unable to ignore his cry for help.”

“Emrys? I’m sorry, I don’t know an Emrys. My servant is injured though; can you help him or not?”

“I came to help Emrys. The boy…” She gestured to Merlin.

“Merlin?” The druid ignored the prince as she passed him on her way to the ground where Merlin lay. Arthur tensed but did not stop the druid from doing her task. Arthur followed and hovered anxiously over her. She removed the hood and revealed a head of dark brown hair. Arthur noticed she had a basket in her hands that she now set next to Merlin.

It was clear that the druid knew what she was doing, but as soon as she began to speak in a foreign tongue, Arthur felt the urge to tear her away from Merlin. Just as he fought the urge away, though, Lancelot trotted up, his sword already out.

“What’s going on, Arthur?” Lancelot demanded. Gwen followed close behind.

“Put your sword down, Lance,” Arthur ordered.

“My lord, this is a druid!” Lancelot had become arrogant, a characteristic Arthur had never seen in him before. It did not suit him well.

“What is she doing to Merlin?” Guinevere asked shakily. She stood between Lancelot and Arthur now, but the two men did not look at her.

“She said she could help him.” Arthur pleaded.

“She can’t be trusted, sire. You have become blinded by your love for your servant. This ends now.” Lancelot’s sword was still pointed at the druid who was frozen, kneeling by Merlin, her eyes locked on Lancelot.

Arthur pointed his sword reflexively at the knight. “This woman has offered us help, sir knight. We have no reason to mistrust her. And to your accusations: I am doing all I can to help my servant as I would help any of my other subjects.” Arthur paused to compose himself, but he feared he had lost Lancelot’s faith.

“You two are acting exceedingly foolish!” Guinevere tried to defuse the situation that was already out of her hands.

“Sire, magic is outlawed, and she is clearly a user of magic.” Lancelot relaxed very slightly, but he was not finished speaking. “Your servant cannot use this outlawed practice, regardless of your feelings for him.”

Arthur’s sword was on Lancelot’s neck now. He applied pressure, but not enough to break the skin. “Put your sword down, Lancelot. I will not be spoken to this way.” Arthur heard his father in his voice and lifted his sword from the knight’s neck. “You were my friend, Lance. Do you no longer trust me?”

“My lord.” Lancelot placed his sword on the ground beside him. Gwen looked at Arthur as if about to say something but then decisively turned away to tend the horses without another word. Arthur was unsure of her feelings, but he turned to Lancelot. He still wished for the respect of his two friends, but had to remain in control. Was this arrogance or conviction?

“I believe that this is the right thing to do. If you find any dispute with my actions, maybe you should not return to Camelot with us.” The knight held Arthur’s eyes for another moment and then bowed his head. Arthur nodded and then refocused on Merlin.

The druid went back to her incantation and soon Merlin began to stir. Arthur’s heart leapt and he fell to the ground in response, instinctively grabbing Merlin’s hand. It tightened around the prince’s and, for the first time in the past hour, Arthur felt hope.

 

Morgause settled onto her bed, furious, exhausted, and very embarrassed. She had lost her prize. He had taken Merlin’s body with him, if he even was dead. Perhaps he had lived. It was the way her luck was going today. He was probably going to come back someday and take his revenge. She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come.

Lady Guinevere was gone too, probably with the prince. So was one of her own soldiers. A traitor within her ranks. It made her angry, but it also scared her. If there was one, there could be more. How was she supposed to know? How was she supposed to be safe? Of course, she could protect herself while she was awake, but even she needed sleep sometimes. Like now.

Sunrise was no more than an hour away, though. Guards had woken her not long after she fell asleep the first time and informed her that Lady Guinevere and her “guard” were missing. She had them check on the prince, who turned out to be missing as well. The guards for his tent had been standing outside, unaware. They had been punished severely.

Then she had faced the nightmare of reporting this to Cenred and making herself seem a fool. As if she hadn’t thoroughly made that clear earlier by losing her temper and attacking Merlin in the first place.

Despite everything, she was a little hurt from that. He was a sorcerer; he should be on her side. Uther killed those who used magic. How could Merlin willingly serve his son? Her sister Morgana lived in Camelot, too, but she stayed to give Morgause an advantage. She hated Uther almost as much as Morgause herself, and she also dreamed of freedom for anyone with magic.

Morgana was once again the key to Morgause’s plan. She had lost the advantage of the prince, so now her plan would continue as it had started. Morgana was impatient, though, and had only agreed to the plan reluctantly. She wanted to strike hard and quickly. She didn’t care about casualties or civilians. She hated all of Camelot. Morgause only wanted justice done and the Old Religion brought back.

She loved her sister. She had finally found someone with whom she could share her life and her magic. However, Morgana was a liability. Morgause would only succeed if Morgana played her part correctly, and there was no guarantee of that. Morgause sighed and turned over, curling her legs up.

There was nothing she could do now but trust her sister to use sense. She would have to get to Camelot before the prince, so that there was no warning of her presence. Once there, she might also have to deal with Merlin. Perhaps she could have convinced him to join her, if she hadn’t threatened him. Of course, she hadn’t known about his magic and now it was too late. She had attacked him; even if he was alive, he would not forgive her.

Morgause groaned and stood up. She would get no more sleep tonight. Besides, she had too much pent-up agitation. She needed to let it out. She took her sword and went to find someone to practice with.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

 

The sun was low in the east as Merlin stirred in a pile of leaves. Arthur sat above him, watchful eyes darting. Squinting, Merlin tried to understand his surroundings. He was in a forest and the smell of burnt wood remained from the night before. How had they escaped?

Arthur, realizing Merlin was awake, grabbed his hand. “Merlin!” He seemed almost surprised. Merlin tried to sit up, but felt a pain in his chest. “Lay back. We are safe now. You’ll need to gather your strength for the trip back to Camelot.”

“Morgause?” Merlin’s throat was dry and sore as he spoke.

“Don’t worry about that now. Get some sleep.” To the untrained eye, Arthur would come off as angry, but Merlin knew better.

“Arthur, please. What happened?” The words just barely escaped his lips. Arthur’s eyes shifted to Merlin and he tried to cover his deep concern. Something was wrong, Merlin could tell, but what had happened?

“Merlin.” Arthur shook his head. “You were…” He couldn’t finish his thought. Merlin squeezed his hand for reassurance. Arthur looked at Merlin for a long time before continuing. “Freya saved you.”

“Who?”

“A druid. We are in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. We traveled all night after Lancelot helped us escape.”

“Lancelot?” Merlin wished Arthur would be quicker to give him information. He tried to sit up; this time Arthur helped him. Before resting him against a tree, Arthur tenderly laid a cloak around his shoulders.

“He was in Cenred’s army. When he found Gwen, he decided to help us escape. We owe him our lives… Without him we wouldn’t have made it to Freya in time before…” Arthur trailed off. He took a deep breath attempting to hide his emotions. “Merlin, I’m just glad you are well.”

Slowly Merlin put together the pieces. The last thing he remembered was Morgause in the tent. Looking at Arthur’s face, it was clear what had nearly happened. He saw the pain in Arthur’s eyes and wished he could erase it. Unintentionally, Merlin had put that pain there and the guilt he felt consumed him.

“Arthur, I’m sorry. I thought I could stop her. I didn’t...” Merlin coughed and Arthur’s hands quickly wrapped around Merlin’s shoulders as he studied Merlin’s face with an anxious look.

“Merlin, please don’t apologize. None of this would have happened if I had just given her what she wanted from the start. My arrogance brought this upon us.” Merlin remembered calling Arthur arrogant after leaving Camelot. He wished he had not placed that thought in Arthur’s head. Arthur didn’t deserve to question his own decisions, and Merlin knew that his words had much effect on Arthur’s actions.

“Arthur, no.”

“Merlin, don’t speak. You need to rest. Freya said it may take time for you to make a full recovery.” Arthur gestured at a sleeping figure not ten feet from where the two men sat. Merlin sensed her magic immediately and realized how the stranger had saved his life.

“She has magic.” Merlin found it easier to speak now, but still had a hard time keeping his head up. Arthur reached for Merlin’s face, turning it towards him. Arthur had a reluctant smile on his face.

“She saved your life. Nothing else matters. Now will you please rest, Merlin? That’s an order.”

Merlin smiled at the command of his prince. He let himself relax as Arthur helped him back to the ground. Arthur’s hand stayed on Merlin’s shoulder as he drifted back into a peaceful sleep.

 

Merlin and Arthur sat in a comfortable silence eating the food Lancelot had stolen for them. Arthur felt his happiness increase the longer the two sat alone by the now-dead fire. Guinevere and Lancelot had gone off into the woods before Merlin had woken again. Freya still slept on the other side of the fire.

Arthur could see Merlin’s strength grow with each passing moment. Arthur clumsily took on the role of the servant attending to Merlin. He had clothed Merlin with one of his own shirts and it hung loosely, but at least it would keep him warm. He was glad to see his friend making a fine recovery. Merlin was not quite back to his old self, but to see him up and eating was a miracle.

Arthur’s natural instinct was to grab Merlin’s hand, but Lancelot’s words still rang in his ears: “You have become blinded by your love for your servant.” Everything Arthur knew told him to trust his feelings and they told him there was no way he could ever let Merlin go. He had almost lost him once, and Arthur could never let that happen again. He grabbed his hand.

Merlin scarfed down the food they were given and then looked up and smiled at the prince. His ears peeked out of his dark hair. Arthur’s heart melted at the sight. How could he go back to Camelot and lie to his people? To hide whom he loved? Was Lancelot right? His guilt overwhelmed him. Arthur took his hand from Merlin’s.

“Arthur?” Merlin could always sense when Arthur was making a decision. “Do you want some cheese?”

How did he do it? Everything that came from Merlin’s mouth was either completely ridiculous or incredibly wise; Arthur couldn’t decide which he loved more. He chuckled despite his attempt to stay distant from Merlin.

“I won’t be able to hide this...” Arthur didn’t even need to say it. How many times could you tell someone you loved them before it ran out? The love Arthur felt was so consuming there was no chance of it fading. Arthur waited for Merlin to remind him of his destiny to rule Camelot, but this speech didn’t come. Instead, Merlin moved closer to the prince.

“You’re strong enough to do anything.” Arthur took this in. He knew he wasn’t capable of all that Merlin thought he was, but he could make a decision. Lancelot had his opinion, but perhaps he was wrong - Arthur was in the position to decide what he thought was right.

Merlin proffered the cheese and Arthur decided to take the bait. “I would love some cheese.” Arthur took a playful bite as Merlin tried to feed him. He pushed his manservant softly and both chuckled.

“I’m not going to do it.” Arthur said decisively as he ate the cheese.

“What's that?” Merlin said, casual and oblivious.

“I’m not going to lie to my people. It wouldn’t be fair.” Merlin’s head turned to Arthur’s as he suddenly realized what the prince was saying. “How can I promote equality and fairness without giving myself, or the person I love, the same rights?”

“Arthur, I thought...”

“Forget tradition. Merlin, everything you said was right. If I’m to be a good king I need to do what I believe in. I need to stand up for fairness and a just world. I’m not my father.” Arthur waited for Merlin’s answer, but no matter what happened, Merlin would still be right next to him. That was enough for Arthur.

“Do you really mean that?” Merlin tried to mask his eagerness, but Arthur could tell he was pleased with the decision.

“I could never lose you, Merlin.” The fear of returning to Camelot took hold of Arthur’s mind. But with his decision, he was ready for whatever challenges came.

 

Lady Gwen and Lancelot returned from gathering some berries. Guinevere’s  hand left Lancelot’s as she met Merlin’s gaze. Their mannerisms were familiar to Merlin. The way they looked at each other reminded him of the way Arthur looked at him. Merlin was happy for both of them. He smiled at Guinevere as she blushed.

Lancelot had been Merlin’s friend before he was banished, and Merlin was glad they had found him again after all this time. At that moment Lancelot noticed that Merlin was awake and walked over to greet his old friend.

“Merlin! I’m glad to see you are doing so much better.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Lancelot.” He knelt before Merlin. The prince and the knight exchanged looks. Merlin wondered why Arthur was tense around Lancelot. It certainly had nothing to do with Lady Guinevere, so what had happened?

As they sat down by the fire, Merlin tried to read everyone. Freya looked content to fiddle with the branch she held in her hand. Lancelot looked ashamed and avoided eye contact with Arthur. Lady Gwen looked more anxious than she normally was. Merlin thought that something else had happened the night before.

“Freya, I want to thank you for all your help. When we return to Camelot you will be handsomely rewarded,” Arthur announced.

“I seek no riches, your highness. I ask only one thing.” Freya avoided eye contact. She was fixated on the tree branch.

“Name it.” Arthur didn’t even hesitate.

She looked at him, now. “I ask that when you are king, you reconsider the ban of magic on this land. Your father is a wise king, but you must know not all who practice magic are evil.” With this, Freya glanced at Merlin.

Arthur looked at the druid and stood as he spoke. “I vow on this day, that when I am king, magic will have a place in Camelot. You and your kind will no longer have to live in fear. I promise you this, Freya. And once again, I cannot thank you enough for all you have done.”

Freya stood and put her hands together. “It is I who should be thankful, my lord. You will one day become a great king, Arthur. If you continue to follow your convictions, you will be the leader this land needs. Your beliefs won’t betray you.”

Arthur bowed his head with a gracious demeanor. Merlin could tell that Arthur was being more than just polite; he was receptive of her words. The two shook hands and locked gazes, but then Freya abruptly nodded and went on her way.

Before she was out of sight Merlin heard a voice in his head. It was the voice of Freya. Don’t fear Emrys, your prince will be safe. Follow your heart, though. You must learn the lesson you wish to teach Arthur. Don’t lose hope; always remember your destiny. The voice faded as Freya turned to wave one last time before she disappeared into the woods.

Lancelot stood with purpose, “We must get moving. Morgause will be on our trail by now. Guinevere and I will pack up. Merlin, please rest. We will prepare the horse for you.” He walked away before Merlin could argue.

 

Merlin's strength had returned faster than Arthur had expected, yet he knew Merlin was not well enough to walk back to Camelot. After some gentle motivation, he managed to get Merlin onto the horse with Guinevere. Lancelot followed as Arthur went to retrieve his sword where he had left it by the fire pit.

"Sire, may I have a word with you?"

"Of course, Lance. What is it?" Arthur placed his hand on the man's shoulder, hoping this gesture would help his friend relax. There was still tension between them, but Arthur hoped this conversation would bring some peace.

“My lord, excuse my frankness, but I feel I must say this. You and your servant… you and Merlin…” Lancelot corrected. “The two of you are very close.” He breathed in deeply and avoided eye contact. “It is clear to me what is happening between you two; Guinevere has confirmed my suspicion. We are returning to Camelot and if you are to become king one day, you must choose a life of nobility. That cannot include Merlin.”

Arthur waited for the knight to look him in the eye before he spoke. “You’re wrong. A life of nobility is not defined by the one I love. I go back to Camelot not as a man hiding in fear of what others think, but as a prince who will not let others decide for him what is right or wrong. If you believe in the knight’s code, as I know you do, you will agree that all deserve to be treated with respect and love. Lancelot, I cannot turn away my feelings. I will not consider it.”

A moment passed where Lancelot only stared at his feet tracing a circle in the dirt before him. Eventually, Lancelot gathered the courage to answer. “I will not speak on it again, my lord.”

“You may not speak on it, but you still feel the same way?” Arthur desperately wanted the respect of his knight, but feared it was slipping away.

“My lord, I believe in the Camelot you wish to create. Your plans to alter tradition are drastic, but I now see your confidence in these ideals and I trust that your decisions are scrupulous.”

Arthur decided to be stubborn. “You didn’t answer my question…” His decision to be with Merlin had not come easily. Now that he had finally gained clarity, he wasn’t going to let it go. “Lancelot, I know you can’t understand fully, but I need you to know that there is no circumstance in which I will not be with Merlin and I will always do what is best for my people.” Arthur stated conclusively. He crossed his arms and waited for a response.

“I understand, sire. I ask your forgiveness. I spoke out of turn, my lord.” Lancelot sounded genuine, but Arthur was uncertain if Lancelot’s remorse was regarding what he had said, or simply because he had said anything at all.

The knight made his way back to the horse. Arthur was not entirely satisfied with this conclusion, but he believed Lancelot was taking the first steps toward a change of heart.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

 

Sweeping down the hallways of the castle, she was certain of her superiority. The servants cowered from her. She was like a god to them, after all. They didn’t know it yet, but they soon would. Morgana Pendragon would take the throne of Camelot and she would bring magic back to the world. In the process, she knew she would destroy her father and everyone loyal to him. She would see their blood running down the hallways for what they had done to her.

She would have her vengeance.

She only had to pretend to be a sweet, loving daughter to Uther for a little while longer. Her dear sister was waiting in the woods already, with an army. Morgause brought her power, and power led her to victory. It also brought a smile to her lips. Morgana laughed, but then halted at a window. Why wait?

She was to let Morgause into the city when the time was ripe. Morgause wanted to eliminate casualties, or gain the trust of the people, or some such frippery. It was unnecessary. Her simpleminded brother Arthur had given her the perfect opportunity by disappearing in the night.

The king was distracted, many of the knights were out searching, and most importantly, no one was around to contest her authority. As for the people of Camelot, they would learn to fear her or they would die for their mistakes.

Morgana knew that Morgause had wanted to kill the king. She felt wronged by him, though it was Morgana who he had wronged. Ever since the day her mother died, Morgana had been without a family. She was ward to the king and he claimed to love her, but he hated what she was. He had used her mother for pleasure, but sent her away when he learned she was with child. He was a coward who could not live with the results of his own actions. Morgana hated him for that. Once he knew of her magic, he would hate her too. So it was settled: the king needed to die.

She smirked as she started walking again, this time heading toward her quarters. There, she retrieved a knife she had received as a child. She admired its sharp, clean edges for a moment. Then she began to utter a curse in the language that Uther hated so. The language of magic.

When she finished, she admired the blade again. It looked exactly the same, but when it slid into his flesh, it would bring with it an incurable, magic infection. This was power. This was what Camelot needed: her strong hand leading the way.

But she wondered what to do with the knife. Even her dense father would notice if she just carried it. Instead, she found an ornate box and placed the dagger and a white cloth inside, laughing quietly at her subterfuge. She could easily slip into his room, now. No one would suspect the king’s ward.

Not until too late.

So she took her box and went directly to his study. “Father,” she called before stepping inside. He looked up, his wrinkled face transforming with a small smile. He looked frail in his large chair, even with the crown atop his head. He was troubled by the disappearance of his son and heir, which fogged his mind. Morgana should have been in his thoughts, the stronger one, the one who stood in front of him now.

“I’ve brought something for you, Father,” she said sweetly. He looked at her box and raised a brow.

“What is it, Morgana?”

“It’s a surprise. Close your eyes, Father,” she invited. When he hesitated, she put on a look of defeat. “I had hoped to cheer you up…”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “All right, then. Let’s have it.”

She opened the box, took out the dagger, and stabbed him in the side. His eyes flew open in surprise, and for a moment, he looked at her, breathless. She wiped the blade calmly with the cloth from the box.

“Why?” he whispered finally, his eyes starting to glaze with pain.

“You never gave me what I deserved. You hated what I was, and killed my kind. In return, I have killed you.” She put away the dagger and the bloody cloth. Unintelligent as ever, he looked confused. He shook his head. “Don’t worry, I haven’t killed you yet. I wanted you to suffer.”

“Morgana,” he said. She turned and walked out of the room.

 

They had traveled for hours, and Arthur and Lancelot had been on foot the whole time. It was a miracle they had not been found by Morgause’s army. Merlin insisted on stopping to rest, because he knew Arthur and Lancelot would not volunteer without some encouragement.

The sun was nearing the horizon, and they were only an hour or two outside of Camelot. Lady Gwen and Arthur began unpacking some of the supplies, while Lancelot helped Merlin from the horse.

As Merlin made his way to Arthur, Lady Guinevere and Lancelot decided to find a stream to refill the waterskins. Guinevere was hesitant to leave; she seemed concerned about Arthur. Merlin wondered if her feelings had really faded as quickly as he had hoped. Still, she turned to Lancelot and took his hand as they disappeared into the forest.

“They seem to be getting on.” Merlin saw Arthur’s tension. The prince hardly responded and continued his task of making a fire. “Arthur, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Arthur played the game of secrecy, but Merlin knew he only had to ask twice.

“Is it Lancelot and Lady Guinevere?”

“Lancelot would have killed that druid had I not stopped him.” Arthur paused as he found his words. “He talked to me before we left.” Arthur looked down at his failed attempt to make a fire. “He disapproves of my decision to be with you.”

Merlin took the two small sticks from the despondent hands of the prince. Arthur pulled away in frustration. Merlin knew he didn’t want to seem helpless, but he was a prince after all, and Merlin had always started the fire. “What did you tell him?” Merlin asked in a meek voice. Merlin was ashamed of his own insecurities, but Arthur was acting strange.

Almost before Merlin could get the question out, Arthur locked eyes with the servant. “I told him there was no way that would ever happen.” Merlin allowed a smile. “I’m just worried that the people of Camelot will react as Lancelot has. He is a good knight and a good friend. If he can’t understand my idea of equality, will my people feel the same?”

“Arthur, Lancelot would die for you and he does believe in your ideals. Look at all he has done for us. He loves you, Arthur. Your people love you. If you stand by your decision, he will respect you and follow you even further because of it. And so will your people.” There was silence as the prince thought.

“How does one break every tradition known to a kingdom and expect the subjects to follow without complaint? To believe in equality means I must treat all with the same respect. I have made the decision to be with you, and this has gone against every tradition I know.” Arthur stood and began to pace. “If I’m to build a Camelot I believe in, then I need to build a Camelot where no one knows of any discrimination. Innocent people have died at Uther’s hands and the hands of others because of my father’s unreasonable laws.” He looked at Merlin, but Merlin had no response to give. “I believed in those laws, Merlin. Or at least I thought I did. Lancelot was my greatest knight, and even he couldn’t find it in his heart to trust a druid. Freya did nothing to lead us to believe she would harm you, yet Lancelot immediately threatened her.”  Arthur stopped and looked back at Merlin.

“But you did not, Arthur. You showed her respect and trusted her.” Merlin rose and met him. “Lancelot witnessed your lack of judgment and learned from you. Your example will show the people how to treat each other fairly; only then will the people see you for the man I see before me now.” Merlin ventured a kiss, but Arthur turned away.

           “Except I am not king.” He breathed slowly. “I don’t know what my father will do when we return, and I can’t bear to think about it.” His expression was worried when he looked back at Merlin.

At that moment, Merlin knew what was troubling Arthur. His fear of disappointing his people and Lancelot was very real, but he had a more pressing concern. Merlin finally understood. They were only two hours away from an unbearable uncertainty and each step closer to Camelot brought them closer to facing Uther, the man who would see Merlin killed.

Merlin gathered his courage. “Whatever may come, Arthur, we face it together.” All Merlin’s remaining doubts faded as Arthur sank into his arms.

“Then I have nothing to fear.” Arthur said with renewed confidence. He lifted his head and slowly met Merlin’s lips, easing him closer.

 

Arthur abruptly pulled away from Merlin. The last time he had kissed his servant was in Morgause’s tent, and this time his thoughts flashed back to the nightmare that followed shortly thereafter. He had almost lost Merlin because of his actions, and he refused to let himself make another mistake that could lead to Merlin’s harm. If any word of this got back to Uther, there would certainly be consequences.

A look of consternation came across Merlin’s face. “Arthur?”

“Merlin, I can’t lose you again.” Arthur muttered defensively. He was ashamed of his unexpected fears. He had been so confident only a moment ago.

Now, Merlin looked sympathetic. He seemed to understand almost immediately, as always. “I’m not going anywhere, Arthur.”

“I know. But my father…” Arthur could feel his throat close up. “What Morgause did to you, Merlin, I couldn’t go through that again.”

“We will be careful, Sire. Nothing with happen.”

Arthur had always disliked the word “sire”, but as he looked at Merlin now, he could see it had a different meaning to Merlin. It suddenly felt like a word reserved only for Arthur. In that moment he remembered all the times Merlin had said “sire” and the way it made him feel. Merlin looked back at Arthur, eyes understanding, but still hurt. Arthur knew the hurt was only there because of his father, yet Arthur felt personally responsible. Arthur couldn’t contain his frustration. “I should talk to him. Maybe I can convince him that my happiness will make me a stronger king.”

           Arthur heard a rustling in the trees before he could go on. He assumed it was Lancelot and Guinevere returning, but a familiar deep voice rang out. “I think I found something over here, Percival!” A sword chopped through a nearby shrub and then Gwaine made his way into the clearing. When he saw Arthur, his face immediately lit up.

           “Arthur!” The casual greeting was familiar to Arthur; Gwaine was never one to follow tradition. He thrust his sword into his belt and went to meet the prince. Percival followed shortly after and wrapped his massive arms around Merlin.

           “Are you two all right? We were starting to fear we had lost you.” Percival was always overly concerned. His large frame was deceiving; inside he was as gentle as a lamb.

Gwaine looked up at the three men; he was shorter than them, but his confident demeanor made up for it. “Eh, I wasn’t too worried.” He sent a playful punch Arthur’s way that Arthur easily avoided.

These two men may have been knights of Camelot, but Arthur would always see them as his brothers. Arthur grinned. “We are fine, now. You came too late,” he teased. “Are you two alone?”

“Leon is with us,” Percival offered as he stepped away from Merlin and moved on to hug Arthur.

Arthur looked expectantly at the shrubs that Gwaine had cut down. “Where?”

“We, uh, split up. Gwaine and I work better, um, alone.” Percival seemed to be hiding something. It was impossible for him to lie. Gwaine attempted to cover up for his friend.

“He would have slowed us down.” Gwaine stated confidently. He believed this, too; Gwaine’s confidence wasn’t an act. Arthur knew better though, Leon was one of his best knights.

There was a real reason they had split up, but Arthur decided to change the subject. “Lancelot and Guinevere should be here soon; they are traveling with us.”

“Lancelot?” Percival cried. “I never thought I’d hear that name again!”

“So it is true. You and Lady Guinevere ran off together?” Gwaine questioned.

“Not exactly -” Arthur stumbled over his words. Before he could finish, a familiar curly blonde head of hair appeared from the same direction the other two knights had come from. Sir Leon stood tall above the others. He looked skinny and stretched out, but he was a good fighter and a good leader.

“Where did you two -” He stopped as he met eyes with Arthur. “My lord!” He fell to the ground on one knee. Leon was a traditionalist. His father was the High Constable and had held that office for many years, serving loyally under Uther for as long as Arthur could remember. Arthur and Leon were knighted together and Arthur trusted his instincts over the others’.

“Stand, sir knight.” Arthur placed his hand on the knight’s shoulder. The two looked at each other and embraced as Leon stood.

Then, he turned to his companions. “I didn’t expect you two to actually keep looking for Arthur after we split up. I was trying to give you two some time alone.”

Arthur laughed aloud at this. He had always suspected Gwaine and Percival were together, and now he knew. He was less surprised about Gwaine, who fancied anything that moved. Percival, however, had never shown interest in anyone before meeting Gwaine.

“We didn't -”  Percival protested to the prince who simply placed his hand on Percival’s sturdy arm.

“Don’t worry, Perce. All is well. And to answer Gwaine’s question: it was not Guinevere with whom I ran off.” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hand and turned to the knights. He felt like he was about to announce the most important news of all. “It was Merlin.”

 

Leon was not surprised. He had grown up alongside Arthur and they had been very close. He had always suspected, for Arthur had never fancied any girls. Leon had never understood how this could change anything about Arthur. He looked at Arthur no differently than he ever had. Leon was happy for his friend and glad that Arthur finally felt comfortable enough to come out and say it.

 

Percival smiled and reached for Gwaine’s hand. It had been two years and he had always been afraid to do this in front of the prince. He had never fully understood Arthur until now. He always spoke of equality and fairness; he never judged or scolded them. He treated his knights as equals, and now Percival realized how much Arthur truly believed in these ideals.

 

Gwaine took his lover’s shoulder and pulled him down to his level. He kissed his cheek loudly before he spoke. “Well, let’s all go back to Camelot and get ourselves killed!” He tried to cut the awkwardness with humor, but he could see that the joke landed poorly on Merlin and Arthur.

 

Merlin wanted to be happy that they had found the knights. Their protection would give the party safety, but something still felt wrong. He dreaded returning to Camelot for his own sake, but there was something else that Merlin feared, too. He was uncertain if his magic had given him this intuition, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that Camelot would bring nothing but sadness for the prince.

“Is Lady Guinevere with you?” Leon asked anxiously.

“Yes. She and Lancelot went to find water.”

“Lancelot? How ever did you find him?” Though surprised, Leon looked glad to hear the name of the banished knight.

“It was luck, I suppose. We never would have escaped Morgause’s army if it weren’t for him.”

“You were abducted? Sire, perhaps you should explain what has happened.”  Arthur filled in the others on what had happened in the past two days. When he finished, Leon and Arthur began to talk strategy in their familiar way. Arthur trusted Leon nearly as much as he trusted Merlin, but Leon knew war, something Merlin could never wrap his head around. Merlin was proud of his prince and could see the great leader he would one day become.

 

Morgause found herself moving to stave off exhaustion. It had been a few hours, she thought. She was lucky no one had come to bother her until now. She came to a rest position and panted for a moment.

Her arms were sore, she was dripping with sweat, and she had a headache. At least the exercise had burned off her anger.

"What do you want?" she finally asked the messenger. His hand trembled as he held out a rolled-up slip of paper. She slid her sword back into its scabbard and took the paper, turning away to read it.

 

Dearest Sister,

I have expedited the process of our mutual enemy’s death. I control the city now. Come at your earliest convenience.

 

The message was short and meant to be comforting. Morgause was infuriated again. It displayed all her sister’s arrogance and she even blatantly admitted her deviation from the plan. Morgause stared at the words again, trying to guess at the details. Had Morgana killed Uther? Had she taken from Morgause the only prize that she desired?

Whatever the case, she no longer had a choice. She had to move immediately and send the army into the city or lose everything. There was no doubt that Morgana had a loose grip on her newfound power. If Arthur returned, his people would very likely rally to him.

She crumpled the paper and waved absently at the messenger. “No response, my lady?” She frowned at him.

“No response. You may leave.” Then she looked in the direction where she knew she would find Cenred in his tent. She sighed. If Arthur reached the city before her, what would happen? Would it be the catastrophe she had originally thought? Merlin was a sorcerer and his lover. He wouldn’t continue to persecute sorcerers with Merlin by his side, would he? But if Merlin was dead… who knew. She thought about the way the prince had held himself, the way he had stayed calm. Even at the time, she had noted that he would make a good king.

She walked toward Cenred’s tent, attempting to prepare herself mentally. They had to get moving, no matter what. She could not just give up now.

She wanted to stop by her tent to wash off first, but the situation was too urgent. She had to make this work. By the time she made it to Cenred’s tent, she had wiped the sweat off her face, at least, and she had brushed her hair with her fingers. At least Cenred was smitten enough that he would appreciate her attentions in any state.

She glided past his guards and into his tent without waiting for permission. She smiled when she saw him and moved behind his chair, running her fingers lightly across his shoulder and up his neck.

He perked up at the sight of her. “You found Arthur?” She bit her lip. She had to make this look like a good situation.

"No," she said, "We have better news. My sister Morgana has already taken Camelot. She asks for our assistance in holding it."  Cenred stood up and turned to face her.

"The prince is still a threat, then."

"Yes," she said, lowering her eyelashes. "But I am certain if you muster the army immediately, you can defeat Arthur Pendragon."

Cenred stared at her. He wanted to kiss her, she knew. He wanted to do a lot more than that. She would not allow it. "I appreciate your confidence in me, Morgause. But the prince could gain the support of all Camelot and that makes our chances about even."

Morgause smiled up at him. "What is there to gain if you will not take risks?" Then she stepped away from him and walked to the entrance.

Before she could leave, he called out, "Morgause! I will mobilize my men immediately." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and walked out with a smile. At least she could still do one thing right.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

 

Gwen followed Lancelot through the woods. He seemed to know where he was going, but Guinevere was certain he was not familiar with this path. “Lance, could you please slow down?” She knew something was bothering him.

He turned and looked surprised by her question, almost as if he had forgotten she was there. “Sorry, my lady.” He looked ashamed. His dark brown eyes searched his surroundings. “There should be a stream past that mound there.” He pointed confidently into the distance and began walking again.

“What is bothering you?” Gwen decisively stopped moving. “Tell me, Lance.”

The knight sighed and rested his hand on his sword. He still wore Cenred’s armor. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he looked exhausted.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it, my lady,” he said dismissively.

“It’s about Arthur, isn’t it? I saw you two bickering.”

Lancelot let out a sigh and shook his head. “We were talking about Merlin. It seems he has chosen to call off his engagement. An engagement you never even told me about.” He began to walk away from her.

Guinevere pushed her way in front of him, looking him directly in his brown eyes. “I wanted to, but I didn’t have a chance. Should I have told you when we were about to die back at Morgause’s camp? Or maybe while Merlin was dying in the woods? What do you think I should have done, Lancelot?” She could feel her nerves rise as she spoke. She had never addressed a man this way before.

“I wanted you to be honest with me.”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t believe it was any of your business. Yes, I was engaged to him for a short time. After he left with Merlin, though, I knew my place was not with Arthur. I couldn’t question that. I needed to come to peace with that on my own before coming to you. That’s what I believed was fair.”

Lancelot cocked his head slightly. “Before coming to me?”

“Arthur has found someone he loves.” Guinevere spoke gently. She had his attention, now she needed to win his heart. “I am ready to find that too.” She looked at him, unsure whether he still cared for her.

“Guinevere, I’ve loved you since the day I met you. I just always thought -” He paused and looked down at her before continuing. “I always thought Arthur stood in the way of that.”

“He has made his choice, Sir Lancelot. Now you make yours.” She decided to let him think on that and she continued towards the stream that Lancelot had indicated to her earlier.

They arrived at the stream in silence. Lancelot followed behind her now, keeping to himself. Guinevere knelt down next to the brook and began to fill the waterskins. Lancelot took the next empty skin and started to help.

“Do you still have feelings for him?” he asked. Guinevere knew her feelings for Arthur had started to fade as soon as she found him with Merlin in the woods. Her feelings may have been recent, but she was certain that Lancelot had always held a special place in her heart that Arthur could never fill. Lancelot was the one she wanted.

“No.” She was confident in her answer. She noticed him smile out of the corner of her eye, but they finished the chore in silence. Then, he took her hand and pulled her gently to her feet. He placed his dark hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes.

“Then I am yours, my lady.” He leaned down to kiss her, but was interrupted as Guinevere noticed a movement in the trees across the brook. She pulled away in concern.

“Do you hear something?” She looked closely at where she had seen the movement. There was an opening in the trees that lead to a small cliff.

“What is it?” He looked puzzled.

Gwen ignored him and crossed the stream to the trees at the edge of the ridge. There was a field at the bottom and in the distance she could see the gates of Camelot. A swarm of men approached the gates. Gwen crouched behind the trees, looking at the army, then looking back at Lancelot who wore the same sigil as the men marching on Camelot.

Without a word, she sprang up and ran to warn the others.

 

Merlin sensed the bad news before Guinevere even spoke. Arthur jumped into action immediately. The knights, including Lancelot, didn’t question anything Arthur said, just responded to what the prince ordered.

Arthur turned to Merlin and softened his voice, “Merlin, we need to journey back to Camelot straight away. Do you think you can make it?”

Merlin tensed. “I will be fine. I’m not leaving you, Arthur.” Freya’s magic had done its work and Merlin was left feeling strong enough to fight. Regardless, nothing could keep him from the side of his prince.

Arthur looked knowingly at his servant. He didn’t expect any other answer. With a smile, the prince turned to lead the others back to Camelot.

The group walked in silence, nearing the gates. Merlin was uncertain how long it had been since someone had last spoken, but it was clear everyone was getting more nervous the closer they got to the city walls.

Arthur broke the silence. “Is there anyone in the outlying villages we could call on for help?” He looked at no one, but he was clearly speaking to Sir Leon.

“I’m afraid we may not have the time to gather them, sire.” Leon quickened his pace to meet Arthur.

“How long do you estimate we have?”

“Not long, my lord. I judge no more than a half hour.”

“We must first find my father. Merlin and I will go to his chambers to warn him. Leon, lead the others to the tunnels and gather as many loyal knights as you can find to hold the gates.”

Lancelot approached Arthur with little confidence. He placed his hand on Arthur’s shoulder and spoke softly. “Arthur, I must tell you something before we enter the city.”

“Speak your mind, Lance.” Arthur looked up at his knight.

“I want to apologize for my insubordination. I respect who you are, Arthur, and I know now that I also believe in everything you stand for. You are just and fair, and I will follow you until the day I die.” He looked at Merlin now, who was unintentionally eavesdropping. “My apologies extend to you too, Merlin. You only make Arthur stronger, and I see now that love cannot be bound by anything.” His gaze shifted to Guinevere thoughtfully and then he looked back to Arthur.

“Thank you, Lancelot. Your support means more to me than you know.” Arthur let out a sigh of relief and turned back to the group.

The party circled around Arthur as he began to address them. “I know we number few, but know this: we fight together. Whatever may come, we are fighting for our land, our homes, our people.” He looked at Merlin, who gave him an encouraging nod. “Each one of us has a right to fight for that. I am honored to fight alongside each one of you.” He brought his sword over his head. “For Camelot!”

The knights had organized a plan to enter the city before Cenred’s army arrived, but Merlin was certain there was something they had forgotten.

 

Leon led the knights to the lower city where there was a secret tunnel system he was confident they could use. Gwen had slipped into town unnoticed to find Laudine.

They trudged through the underbrush, keeping an eye out for the approaching enemy. Leon silently held up his hand to signal for the group to stop. Cenred’s army had reached the tunnels before their group. They were moving in on Camelot and Leon was certain they were getting information from someone inside the city. Someone who knew the castle well.

The group turned to go back into town through the main gates. Leon would rally as many knights as he could in town and meet the opposing army at the other end of the tunnel. The knights of Camelot would have the advantage now. Cenred’s army would funnel right into a trap. Leon chuckled with confidence and knew that even if his plan foundered, nothing would stop them from trying.

 

They were just outside the gates of Camelot. Arthur had expected an easy entrance through the gates, but something was off. The guards looked shocked and relieved to see him.

“I order you to let me past!” This was his third request; they continued to refuse him.

“My lord, please. It is you we recognize as king, but we must follow orders or...” The sentry was hiding something. Why had he referred to Arthur as king? Arthur dreaded the thought forming in his head.

Arthur lost his temper. “Where is my father!?” The sentry looked at Arthur in a way that made the prince uneasy. He disapproved of acting on his rage, so he decided to offer the young man a softer approach. “Please, tell me. What is going on?”

“It’s Lady Morgana, sire. I mean, Queen Morgana. I’m sorry, my lord, we thought you had died. And the king… I don’t know his fate. Lady Morgana has used a dark magic and I’m afraid she means for him to die.”

The young man didn’t seem to be finished speaking, but Arthur easily pushed past him through the gates. Merlin followed close behind and Arthur felt braver with him nearby, though he was heading toward an unknown that he did not wish to face.

The two raced through the lower city, avoiding any guards or knights on the way. No one was to be trusted.

Finally, Arthur stood below his father’s balcony, looking up expectantly. Merlin ran to him, carrying a rope. He threw the rope high in the air and used his magic to the guide the rope to its destination. It looped around the railing and then Merlin pulled the rope tight and handed it to Arthur. Merlin’s magic was still new. It was odd for the prince to see it in action, yet he quickly grabbed the rope and began to climb.

They reached the balcony outside of Uther’s chambers. Arthur motioned for Merlin to keep quiet. Merlin nodded and crouched next to Arthur to peer into the room. It was empty save for a lump on the far side of the large bed. Not a single guard waited with the king as he slept. Morgana must be confident that her dark magic would take hold soon. Arthur was terrified to think of what she planned next. He wondered if she considered him a threat at all. How could she do this to their family? His own sister!

A candle flickered in the room from a warm breeze passing Arthur’s ears. He swallowed hard and leapt through the open window. Merlin climbed through after him, but lingered as Arthur rushed to the bed.

Uther lay motionless on his side, his back to Arthur. The prince approached slowly. “Father?” The delay was long enough for Arthur to worry that he had been too late.

Finally, he whispered faintly, “Arthur, is that you?” The king turned to him as Arthur knelt by the bed in front of his father. The wrinkles on the king’s face seemed deeper than Arthur had remembered. He was pale and his face hardly resembled the enthusiastic face from Arthur’s childhood.

“I’m here, Father.” He took the hand of his father, unsuccessfully fighting tears from swelling in his eyes. The last time they had spoken, Arthur had wanted to tell him about Merlin. Now, he held his father’s cold hand and realized that conversation could never be. Arthur believed in a world that would alter everything in the one Uther had worked so hard to create. Arthur squeezed his father’s hand. “I’m here.”

“Arthur, your sister… she -” Uther’s eyes shut and he struggled to breathe. “Arthur, you must take back the city. You will be king. You will -”

“I’m not going to let you go, Father. Stay with me.” He looked at Merlin, who still stood by the balcony window. Arthur hoped that Merlin could show the king that magic could be used for good. Maybe Merlin could save the king and then magic would have a place in Camelot. Arthur knew these were desperate thoughts, yet he motioned his servant to the bedside. At least Merlin’s proximity would bring some comfort.

“Please, Arthur, listen. You will make a fine king, and I am proud to call you my son. I know you don’t always agree with me, but your intentions are pure. You will make a great king. I know that.” Uther’s grip loosened and finally dropped.

Arthur stared at his father’s body uncomprehending. Then, he slowly dropped to the floor and sobbed on the ground. Uther had held out just long enough to give him a bit of false hope.

Merlin said nothing, just knelt by the prince and placed a hand on his back. Arthur calmed himself after a while as Merlin’s touch brought him back.

He sat up and looked at Merlin. “Is there nothing you can do?” he pleaded. Merlin shook his head solemnly. The tears returned as Arthur turned back to the bed. “What am I going to do without him?” he whispered. He looked back at Merlin for a response, but found himself in a comforting embrace. Arthur’s breath slowed as he came to terms with the untimely death of his father. Killed by his sister.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

 

"Welcome to Camelot, my sister," Morgana said proudly. Morgause nodded but did not reply. She was trying to make the best of things as they were, but she needed to view Morgana with caution.

Morgause came to the castle alone, leaving Cenred to organize the fight against Arthur’s knights. Morgana had claimed to have the city’s guards under her control, but the prince and his knights were already regaining the loyalty of the city.

Still, Morgause was not surprised. Her sister was erratic and arrogant; she could not be trusted. Even her choice to leave Uther alive was a mistake. Morgause had to secure her hold on this city quickly. After things had calmed down, she could decide what to do with her sister. "Take me to Uther," she said to Morgana.

Together, they strode down the white hallways of Camelot. Morgause should have admired the castle, but all she could think about was how many of her kind had died while Uther lived safely in these halls. Morgana reached a door and thrust it open without hesitation.

Morgause followed and was surprised by what she found. Merlin had survived, apparently, for he sat with his arms around his lover. Arthur noticed their entrance immediately and rose angrily. Only then did Morgause notice Uther’s body. He could have been sleeping, but Arthur's face gave everything away. There was a man who had lost someone important to him.

She knew how that felt and it stopped her in her tracks. This nearly cost Morgause her life, for Arthur came at her swiftly, sword drawn and eager for vengeance.

She blocked his strike almost awkwardly, but then she snapped into motion. However it had happened, Uther’s death was welcome. She had wanted to sink her own sword into the old man's chest. He had been a cold-blooded murderer and his son probably was too.

Out of the corner of her eye, Morgause saw Merlin stand and assess the situation. As she engaged in combat with Arthur, she tried to act her part, the sorceress who sought revenge for her slain kin. "Morgana did you a favor, Arthur. Your father would have killed your precious Merlin for what he is." Morgana was shouting, incoherent, but Arthur heard Morgause. His face was hard. She felt that irritating sliver of doubt. "But now, to honor his memory, you'll have to kill Merlin yourself. Get it over with quickly. It will hurt you more the longer you wait." She spoke the truth, but she barely believed it applied here.

"I will not kill Merlin." Arthur spoke firmly. Calmly. "I have learned that though magic, like anything, can be twisted and used for evil purposes, it is not itself evil." Morgana lashed out at Arthur magically, as if to prove him wrong. Merlin defended her attack but did not return it. Something deep within Morgause awoke, something she had never anticipated. "People should be judged by their actions, not their traits," Arthur continued stubbornly. Morgause watched the scene unfold with a sense of detachment and clarity, though she continued the sword fight.

"Stop," she said, far too quietly. Morgana struck again with more force.

"Merlin chooses not to kill, and proves himself worthy of his magic." Arthur was confident. Morgause saw her world, her goals, her dreams, falling apart. The loss would not be as devastating as she had once imagined.

"Stop!" she screamed, trying to convey what she felt in that single word. Arthur was trying to build a new world, just like she and Morgana were. Perhaps they could coexist? They were not all that different.

Wordless, Morgana struck again. Merlin defended again, but he would not last forever. "People like you, though, do not use your power wisely. You kill and destroy."

Morgause didn’t know whether Arthur was speaking to her or Morgana. She didn't know if she was in the right or the wrong. But she knew what she had to do. Morgana's hatred would not diffuse. She would never relent. But Morgause could not join her.

Her only friend. Her own sister. Leaving herself open to Arthur's blade, she stepped away and moved quickly before anyone could react. Her sword slid too easily into her sister’s body. Morgause watched Morgana go through shock, confusion, and then fury. She died that way, too soon.

"There was no saving her," she said to no one in particular. "She went too far and she would never come back."

She turned back to Arthur, her face wet with tears and her mind void of emotion. Why had had he not killed her? She deserved it.

 

Arthur’s sword was at Morgause’s neck. He was ready to strike. His father’s death was still fresh in his mind and Morgause had killed the one to blame. He could kill her now and ensure safety to Camelot. But he waited.

Why did he hesitate? She went too far and she would never come back. The words still rang in Arthur’s ears. Morgause clearly was not as evil as Morgana was, but she was still untrustworthy.

“Arthur, you are not your father,” Merlin said solemnly. He stood over Morgana’s body. Arthur saw a glimpse of how Merlin viewed the world, the way that people could live together in peace. Merlin would not have killed even Morgana if he had a choice. And now it was Arthur’s choice. What kind of Camelot would he create?

Arthur lowered his sword.

 

Leon calmed his nerves as the last of Cenred’s army retreated into the darkness. Gwaine clapped Leon’s back as a grin spread across his face. Leon’s sword felt heavy in his hand and he relaxed, letting it fall before him. He took in his surroundings.

Percival stepped carefully over the bodies that lay on the ground and made his way towards Gwaine. Lancelot still looked down at the body of Cenred that lay before him. The bald corpse looked small to Leon. All of them did. Leon had a strange dissociation after each of his battles.

The knights who had helped the four remained in the city, as Leon led the others to the castle. Lancelot broke away first, announcing he was going to find Guinevere. Gwaine was bragging to Percival about his accomplishments in the battle. Percival humored him.

Leon picked up his pace, eager to get back to Arthur. He knew the two would soon be distracted, anyway.

Arthur was walking towards Leon before he had even reached the castle. Merlin followed close behind. A small feeling of relief crept over Leon. Of course Arthur was well, but his expression told Leon that something was wrong.

“My Lord.” Leon rushed to the prince. “We have secured the city. Cenred lies with his men at the tunnels where we cut them off.” Arthur’s face was solemn and he embraced his friend.

Arthur let the smallest smile pass across his lips. “Well done, Leon. Morgause is secured and…” Arthur swallowed hard. “I’m afraid my father did not make it.”

Right at that moment, Leon saw Arthur as the boy he had met in his childhood. A feeling of sadness overwhelmed Leon. He was not sad for the kingdom - Arthur would make a fine king - he was sad for his dear friend and the loss he had just suffered. “My Lord, I am sorry.”

 

Arthur followed Merlin down to the cell where the guards had placed Morgause. Merlin had assured the prince that Morgause would be unable to use her magic, but Arthur still felt an unusual anxiety confronting her.

When he reached her cell, she was curled in the corner, her eyes glazed over as she stared at nothing. She looked defeated, which seemed out-of-character for her. She could have been down here for days based on her demeanor, but it had only been a few hours.

Merlin had a look of sympathy on his face that Arthur couldn’t help but frown on. Merlin’s strongest quality was Arthur’s greatest weakness. He wished he could be more like him, but Morgause’s actions would not be easily forgotten.

“Stand.” Arthur tried to be gentle.

Morgause jolted and looked around as if seeing her surroundings for the first time. When she noticed him and Merlin, she tried to compose herself, but she still looked pitiful.

Merlin avoided eye contact with her; he looked ashamed, but he undid the spell that held her magic in.

“Morgause.” Arthur waited for her attention.

She stood up and looked him in the eye. She confidently took hold of the bars and scowled at the prince.

“You are responsible for my father’s death. You kidnapped the crown prince of Camelot, tried to blackmail me using my friends, almost killed my personal servant, and then marched an army on my city in an attempt to take it for yourself. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now.” Merlin stirred uncomfortably in his boots. Arthur eyed his servant, searching his face for a strand of approval. For the first time, he was uncertain if it was there.

“Kill me then,” she challenged.

“Have it your way.” Uncertain, Arthur turned to leave.

“Arthur.” Merlin stood unmoved, eyes on Morgause. “You can’t do this.” Merlin didn’t need a reason, but Arthur could still feel his fresh emotions clouding his judgment. He lingered a few feet down the hall.

Morgause chuckled in her cell. Arthur didn’t like that she was gaining confidence. He didn’t want to show any weakness.

As if reading his mind, Merlin spoke again. “This will not make you weak, Arthur. Letting her go will show compassion.”

“Why should I show her compassion? She would have me dead!” Anger filled his thoughts.

“I told you from the beginning, Arthur Pendragon, I don’t care about your life. It was your father’s I desired, and I have been cheated of even that much. If you have me executed, it should be for the crimes that I have committed.”

“If she wishes to be put to death-”

Merlin looked to Arthur and back at Morgause. “I understand your hatred, Morgause; I would be lying if I said I did not struggle with that as well.” Arthur was taken aback by this comment. He had never really thought of how Uther’s rule would have affected those with magic. Somehow he did not blame Merlin, and this understanding started to transfer over to Morgause.

“I never struggled. I hated him for the deaths he caused. I have received justice and now, the slate is clean. Go ahead, though, and bloody your own fresh slate with the execution of a sorcerer. I deserve it, don’t I?”                    

“My father has wronged your kind. I know that.” The words reluctantly passed through Arthur’s lips. “However, your crimes will not be forgotten.” Arthur hesitated. He looked at Merlin again and this time Merlin nodded, so Arthur continued. “I never want to see your face in Camelot again, Morgause.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

 

Her memory was not a blur, the way that people said. It was not just out of focus. Instead, it mixed. Some bits repelled her, so she could not linger. The pieces that remained were out of order, confused in Morgause’s mind.

She was walking through the streets of Camelot, her path lined by dead bodies, like some sort of macabre bridal procession. She even had an escort. The color was red, stark red. The red of blood, staining the cobblestones, staining the bodies. The red of Camelot, flying high on flags and adorning the uniforms of her escort. Even the clouds were painted red with the sunset.

She could see Morgana, the sister she had never known. When she came to Camelot, when she found her sister for the first time… joy had blossomed in her heart. Morgause had never had a sister, or even a friend. The High Priestesses had raised her and taught her everything she knew, but they did not play with her, laugh with her, share secrets with her. Knowing Morgana was different. It was finding a rhythm and a purpose to life. Something beyond revenge: love.

Leaning over Cenred’s desk to point out strongholds on his detailed map. She knew his eyes were on her breasts and not her words, but she kept talking. He wanted more power and she was his key to gaining it. She needed him too, though she hated to think about it. His army was the crutch she needed to get to Uther. That moment was so close. When he was dead, she would be free, but so would every sorcerer. Every one that still survived, at least. He had killed so many, but judgment day was coming.

Arthur’s sword at her throat.

Arthur with his servant Merlin.

Arthur’s tent, empty.

That blue-eyed stare should make her angry, furious. His arrogance and his escape. He was of impure blood, the son of Uther Pendragon. She often dwelled on this. She should hate him, but she didn’t. Because of him, her kin could live again. She had seen druids, creeping out of hiding. She could even feel it in the air, the ground, the trees: a gentle humming; the world stirring again with magic. Arthur had made a difference, and she could not hate him.

She had wandered, those first few days of banishment. Her life was over; why hadn’t Arthur just killed her? Then, some villagers had found her hungry and alone. They had taken her in, and had nursed her back to health. She had left them before anyone grew attached. She did not belong there.

Now, after weeks of aimlessness, she knew what she would do. She knelt in a boat, watching as a dark shape materialized out of the fog. It was the Isle of the Blessed. She was the only High Priestess left, and she could to teach others the way of the Triple Goddess. The Old Religion would not die.

Something flickered in her memory. Morgana. Why wasn’t her sister here, helping her? Abruptly, the truth crashed into her. “She was too dangerous!” she gasped, trying to chase away demons of doubt and guilt. It took a moment, but she gathered herself just as the small boat reached the island. She stood up slowly, feeling the weight of her lost sister on her shoulders.

She had to rebuild this place. No sorceress should ever get so lost, not anymore. Magic was not about killing and death. It was something beautiful and pure.

           

Arthur held his sword in the standard guard position. He watched the chest of his opponent for any telling movement. Lancelot was holding his sword an inch too low, his aim a little off. He was trying to bait Arthur.

Arthur stepped to the left and Lancelot stepped right. Arthur would not take the bait. He was focused; he had to be. He was the sole Pendragon left alive. With his father dead, he would be crowned king of Camelot soon, though he was not ready. For now, though, Arthur just needed to keep up his skills… and let out his stress.

Still, it was Arthur who lost his patience first and lunged toward the opening Lancelot presented. The moment he saw the telltale movement in Lance’s shoulders, he feinted and came around on the opposite side.

Lancelot was already committed, but he managed to block just in time. Arthur pressed his advantage and kept attacking, forcing Lancelot to defend, defend, and defend again, always retreating. Arthur moved quickly, never letting up, waiting for Lancelot to make a mistake.

There it was. A parry that came a fraction of a second too late, leaving his upper body open. Arthur went for it, only to realize Lancelot had lured him in. His riposte struck Arthur in the side, because Arthur had been overextended and could not respond in time. Tucking away the pain of the blow until after the match, Arthur retreated quickly, giving himself an extra moment to regroup before Lancelot swung again.

Now Arthur was on the defensive, but his form was perfect, his parries effective. He led Lancelot on, hoping to lull him into confidence. Then, when he should have parried, he twisted instead and hit Lancelot from behind. With his friend off-balance, Arthur brought his blade around and rested it against Lance’s neck.

Both men stared at each other, breathing heavily. It took a moment for the adrenaline to fade, but it did, and then Lance held out his hand. “Good fight,” he said.

Arthur shook his head. “I need to be better.” And he stepped back and moved into guard again.

 

Merlin waited for Arthur to return from his bout with Lancelot. He knew Arthur needed to blow off steam, but the anticipation was consuming. Finally, the door swung open. Arthur’s face was dissatisfied and he immediately fell onto the bed.

It had been nearly a month and Arthur was still not himself. He sat with his shoulders slumped, eyes down. Camelot was making great progress in recovering from the attacks it had suffered, but Arthur stayed stagnant.

Arthur picked up his father’s pendant from his bedside table and began to fiddle with it. Over the past few days he was picking it up less, but he still handled it with care. “How did the fight go?” Merlin offered a goblet of water to the king. He was uneasy about his exact position in court, but Merlin still felt the urge to serve Arthur.

Arthur absently put the pendant down and accepted the water. Merlin knew the king’s sadness was growing less about his father each day, and becoming more about his fear of ruling a kingdom.

“Arthur, will you please speak to me? I can’t bear to see you like this.” Merlin brought himself to the level of Arthur on the bed. With a start, he looked at Merlin as if he was seeing him for the first time.

“Merlin, I’m sorry. I…” He looked at his water and handed it back. “What are you doing? You are not a servant anymore.”

Merlin set aside the water. “I don’t know where I stand anymore,” he said hesitantly. The king grabbed Merlin’s hands and squeezed them tight.

“You are everything that the royal pin represents. That’s one tradition I mean to keep in place.” His smile lasted a brief moment and faded just as quickly as it had come.

“What’s on your mind, Arthur? Is it your father?” Merlin anticipated the same answer he had received for weeks, but instead Arthur looked at Merlin pensively.

“My father was not a good man.” He said this as a fact.

Merlin waited for a follow up, but nothing came. “Arthur, you don’t really mean that.”

“He was a good father, maybe, but to his people… Well, his people with magic… I don’t want to be like him, Merlin.”

Merlin started to see the shift in perception in Arthur’s eyes. He knew Arthur’s mind was made up; he wouldn’t need convincing, only reminding.

“You will make a fine king, Arthur. Your people believe in you. As for those who practice magic, you simply need to show them how unlike your father you really are. You are not a cold-blooded killer, Arthur. I know you loved your father, but loving him doesn’t necessarily mean following exactly in his footsteps.” Merlin hoped the words landed well on the king. He was uneasy about speaking negatively of Arthur’s father.

“How will I know if I am making all the right decisions?” Arthur’s eyes fell to his lap.

“I will be there to help you, and so will your knights. You are not alone in this.” Arthur looked up again, somewhat reassured, and wrapped his arm around Merlin.

Merlin left the role of the servant and found his place next to the man he loved. He let himself accept the full meaning of the pin and his role in Camelot. “Arthur, if you’ll have me, I will marry you and be by your side for all your days.”

“Say it again.” Arthur was beaming.

Steadily, Merlin lifted Arthur to his feet. “Arthur Pendragon, I love you. Will you marry me?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

 

Arthur felt a confidence that he had been lacking in the past few weeks. His decisions as king had more consequences than he could know and he was terrified of making the wrong decisions. Everything always came back to him and the weight of it was close to unbearable. Now, though, he did not have to bear it alone. Standing in the Grand Hall with Merlin, he knew he was doing the right thing. There was no other way he would accept it.

He looked only at his future husband, ignoring his courtiers, knights, and advisors. This moment belonged to Grand Duke Merlin of Camelot. Merlin wore his infectious smile when he looked at Arthur, and when their eyes locked, Arthur wished the moment would last forever.

Of course, time moved on. The priest asked them to speak their vows, they kissed, and the guests cheered. Through it all, Arthur focused his energy toward his lover, now his husband, and enjoyed the last moments before his new life began.

 

Gwen watched the ceremony with rapture. She was happy for both of them. Arthur’s hand in marriage had been her wish only recently, but she did not feel a drop of regret watching him get married. Life as a queen would have been difficult and stressful, and while she had loved Arthur, her love for Lancelot far surpassed it.

Lancelot’s love for her was true and steadfast. She snuck a smile toward where the knights stood and her lover returned it. Finding Lancelot again was happenstance, but if she were to give thanks to anyone it would be Merlin and Arthur. They both deserved this happiness.

 

Lancelot looked up at his king, the only reason he was a knight at all. He was proud to serve Arthur. As a prince, Arthur had been fair and just, and he always fought for what was right, even when he had to oppose his father. Now, Arthur was king and Lancelot was confident that he would continue on this path.

Merlin had started as a servant who had to hide his secrets from everyone. Lancelot had befriended him immediately, and he knew Merlin to be a good man. Now with Arthur as king, Merlin would never again have to live in the shadows.

Camelot was going to be a bastion, showing everyone how the world could be, if only people would act honorably. Even Lancelot benefitted from this equality. In the past, he would never have become a knight because of his common blood. Now, he was able to pursue his calling, protect the weak, and even be with the woman of his dreams.

 

Laudine looked at Merlin from her place in the crowd. Only a few months ago, Merlin had been a helper to her and a servant to the prince. Though the boy had learned a great deal as her assistant, his duties as Arthur’s servant had always given him much more purpose.

The recent events proved that Merlin and Arthur would make great leaders of this land, and Laudine wouldn’t see any other standing next to the king in this moment. She was proud of the man Merlin had become.

 

Among the knights stood Gwaine, doing his best to look over the shoulders of the others in front of him. The ceremony was coming to an end and Gwaine’s mind was on the reception. Food and wine were waiting, and the anticipation of food was making Gwaine’s stomach growl.

Being free to hold Percival’s hand in the open, Gwaine took it firmly in his own. The knight’s brown eyes looked down at Gwaine and the two men smiled. Tonight would prove a good night for more than just the king and the duke.

 

The atmosphere of the room was wonderful. Percival loved times like this, when everyone was happy, everyone was safe, and Gwaine was by his side. He grinned down at the man he loved and squeezed his hand.

His attention went right back to the royal couple, though, for they were now officially wed. Arthur and Merlin began to walk together from the room, the ceremony finished, and Percival watched them go, knowing that would soon be his place, with Gwaine. He met Arthur’s eyes as the king surveyed the room.

Duty held him here for now, but soon he would have a chance to actually hug his friends.

 

           People began to exit the Grand Hall as Leon stayed behind. The ceremony was beautiful and Leon could not be happier for his friends. He had always worried about Arthur: the prince was never confident in his own skin. But with Merlin, he was different, he was self-assured. Leon had no reason to wonder any longer about what kind of king Arthur would make.

           Already Camelot was blossoming under its new rule. The people were truly happy, as Leon knew they would be. All the people of the land gladly accepted the new king and all that he had changed. Leon knew Merlin played a big role in that, and Arthur would find nothing but contentment in his companion sovereign.

           Leon was proud to call Arthur his friend, but most importantly he was proud to call him his king.

 

“Just follow my lead,” Arthur urged, almost pulling Merlin forward. Merlin chuckled when Arthur swung him around so that they were facing one another. Everyone was watching. The dancing couldn’t begin until the newly wed couple initiated it. And Merlin had no idea how to dance.

Arthur’s hand held their bodies close together and Merlin raised his brows. “I’ll do my best,” he said and barely had taken another breath before the music started and they were moving. He stumbled a bit when they turned unexpectedly. He also stepped on Arthur’s toes repeatedly. With each misstep, he gave Arthur an apologetic grin, but Arthur just whispered, “You’re doing fine,” and squeezed his hand where they were laced together.

After a few moments, others joined in. Everyone was eager to celebrate and the musicians had started off with an invigorating tune. Merlin tried to pay attention to what he was doing, but he could hardly focus when Arthur’s blue eyes kept meeting his own. His golden hair stirred a little when they spun quickly. Their bodies were close enough to conduct heat and Merlin could feel it every time Arthur tensed to move. Then, he realized he could predict Arthur’s motion by feeling his muscles tense and relax. Suddenly, he wasn’t stumbling as much, and he always missed Arthur’s feet.

“Close your eyes,” Arthur suggested. The music had changed. It was slow, hypnotic. Merlin closed his eyes, feeling where Arthur was leading him and following close behind. Here in his arms, Merlin knew that he had made the right decision. He had glimpsed it when he accepted the pin from Arthur and then when they had left Camelot together.

That night in the woods, though, confusion had clouded his mind and he had tried to reconcile what he thought were two different choices: his love and his duty. Now, he knew beyond all doubt that tonight was a culmination of all his choices and everything was as it should be.

With his eyes closed, he knew where Arthur stood and Merlin knew where he would forever be - Arthur was his destiny.

**Author's Note:**

> This was our first fic. We each wrote scenes from different characters' perspectives and then edited together. We probably won't write any more of this, and we realize it isn't very good, but hopefully you were entertained anyway!


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